


Tales of After the End

by Jeredu



Series: After the End [1]
Category: Tales of Destiny, 終わりのセラフ | Owari no Seraph | Seraph of the End
Genre: Adventure, Canon-Compliant for OnS through Nagoya, Crossover, Dark with a happy ending, Friendship, Gen, Illustrated, So Much Friendship, Some Non-Graphic Violence, knowledge of either canon not necessary, post-nagoya
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-29 04:58:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 41,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6360292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeredu/pseuds/Jeredu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Leon really needs to learn to make some friends besides Chaltier (because the demon in his cursed sword doesn't count). Typical teenage rebellion and high treason aside, things maybe don't turn out as horribly as they could have when Leon is detained [adopted] by a soldier named Stahn who happened to be in the wrong place at the right time.</p><p>A fusion crossover set in the Owari no Seraph universe.  Canon compliant so far; eventual Post-Nagoya spoilers. Illustrated!</p><p>Update: Chapter 11 - Lying in the Darkness</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Irony of Fate

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter sets the stage and tells of the major relevant events leading to the present, with subsequent chapters focusing on specific characters and events.
> 
> (I just wanted to add, I would absolutely love any feedback at all. Or hit me up on tumblr if you want! I'm fueled by feedback and ideas and discussion and analysis and heck, if anyone has suggestions or ideas or even just what you want to see more of, I'd really like to hear them. Please?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All it takes is one moment of weakness, and one stubborn fool of a human to witness it, and suddenly the reluctant vampire finds himself dragged along on an unexpected adventure to save a human woman. In which the unstoppable force of Stahn's friendliness meets the immovable object of Leon's prickliness.

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The young vampire Leon Magnus wasn’t really sure how he’d let himself be talked into going along with this human boy. The boy had seen Leon's uncharacteristic moment of weakness, had seen him beg his sire not to harm Marian - a human woman - and had insisted on saving her.  Leon wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth, even if said horse was obnoxiously loud and even _more_ obnoxiously optimistic and _curious_. He had little pride left to be tarnished here, and none as a vampire. The vampire Progenitor Hugo Gilchrist, _his sire_ , had seen to that.  

Hugo had lured Japanese Imperial Demon Army (JIDA) Lieutenant General Kureto Hiiragi’s promising young protege - a boy named Emilio Katrea - into a trap and gutted him with his bare hand.  Hugo revealed his ace, the hostage Marian, and Emilio had hesitated. Even armed with the Black Demon cursed sword, Chaltier, one of the JIDA’s most skilled swordsmen hadn’t stood a chance.  Emilio had been naught but a boy of fifteen, a child soldier in a world ravaged by monsters of heaven and controlled by the iron fist of the vampires, vampires determined to keep the humans as livestock before the monsters slew them all.  

Hugo had pinned him down, his hand twisted deep into Leon’s body, and whispered “ _You are **mine** , now.”_ 

 

It was the last thing the human boy Emilio ever heard. Chaltier, once bound to him by contract, became the first known demon to be bound to a  _vampire_ master. 

 

The boy awoke, Chaltier’s amused face a half-seen afterimage in his dazed mind, the taste of blood and wrongness in his mouth, and he found that he perversely craved more of it.  

He took a new name, because he was no longer Emilio.   And so, Leon Magnus had been born.   Hugo was every bit as cruel and cunning as Kureto had been, but where Kureto was blunt and dismissive, Hugo seemed to care just enough to make Leon _want_  to see the man acknowledge him.  It was the only goal he could give himself, to stay sane.  Marian- Marian was the only remnant of 'family' he had left. She wasn't his real mother, but did that matter? So what if she had once been hired to look after him, privy to the occult secrets of the sect behind the child experiments in the past? Marian had grown to genuinely care for Emilio, and Emilio would do anything to protect her.  Marian was the only person Leon had let himself grow close to, afraid of letting anyone into his heart.  Hugo knew of this great weakness, and Marian was always being watched. Hugo allowed Leon to stay in contact with her, to ensure his obedience.   Hugo went to far crueler measures to ensure Leon’s _loyalty_. 

One would think it impossible for a Vampire to detest blood- it was like being a human who was afraid to eat.  Leon  _knew_  it was all in his head, but that made it no easier to overcome.  Apparently, brutal conditioning was enough to burn even the thirst for human blood out of a boy like Leon.  The scent of it became synonymous with agony, with fear, with weakness and shame.  

Hugo was a Progenitor, a most ancient, eldest, and powerful Vampire capable of siring vampires of strength equal to his own.  But a vampire could only complete the transformation in one, irreversible way: by drinking even the smallest amount of human blood, just once.   This final requirement suited Hugo just fine; Hugo wanted a perfect little attack hound, not an equal.  And he wanted that hound on a short leash, dependent on his own blood as the only alternative to that of a human. He wanted Leon bound to _him_ , desperate to stay on his good side, and so Leon remained incomplete, lacking a true Vampire's red eyes and pointed ears.  Leon still looked much like his human self- short, slender, with dark hair and indigo eyes.  Leon knew that Hugo would kill Marian, or torture her first, without a second thought if Leon disobeyed him.  He couldn’t even try to run away with her, because he would starve.  Hugo would never welcome him back with anything but steel if he tried it.  

So Leon obeyed.  Leon obeyed and hoped bitterly that Hugo would finally deem him worthy enough for greater freedoms, or that the humans would somehow figure out how to kill him. Which _him_? Leon didn’t care.  The humans could kill Leon or Hugo. The end result would be the same.  At least Marian would be free.   

Chaltier - his demon - had been the only other soul Leon bothered speaking to, and Leon found himself speaking to Chaltier more and more.  Chaltier had been suspicious, at first, his wicked mouth twisted into a smirk, eyes bright and glimmering with mischief that spelled Leon’s doom if he ever slipped up.  A demon only agreed to a contract for one reason- he would grant a worthy human his power, in exchange for the chance to take the human's body as his own.  Demons had an arsenal of illusory tricks and violent assaults to try to break their hosts' spirit enough for a complete takeover, and as such, interactions often turned violent.  But no, for once, Leon had just wanted to talk. 

 

Of all the 'demons' in his head, vying for space- _this_  demon, the one who was no figure of speech, had not come from Leon's self.  Naturally, Leon wanted to know more.  It was dangerous to have an unknown element exist within his own body, and his curiosity only grew with time.  Even as a human, his sleep was often fitful, and staring at shadows on the ceiling only made the ones inside him grow restless.  Talking to his demon was a better use of his time, even if his efforts were laughed off at first.

 

Sometimes conversation became a test of willpower.  Chaltier, like any demon, wanted _nothing_ more desperately than a body of his own.  That was why he’d agreed to this- he would lend Leon his power, in exchange for the chance to usurp this body, just like every demon, Leon was taught.   That was simply how things worked in this world. 

But with time, Leon found that some of the walls had begun to come down.  He’d always been a bit of a loner, it was true, and he had started these nightly conversations well before his ill-fated encounter with Hugo.  But now,  _now_  things were different.  Sometimes Chaltier would initiate the conversation.  Sometimes he seemed to take a genuine interest, freely answering even the most inane questions.  His favorite color was blue.  He’d been human, once.  His closest friend he could still recall had been his roommate. Chaltier could not produce a name; only that the man had been tall, blond, and wore a lot of green, and Chaltier remembered nothing else about him anymore, aside from the fact that they were both in the military.  

Like Leon, Chaltier had been one who kept his heart closed to other people.  

Sometimes Chaltier would speak to Leon even when Leon was awake, his voice resonating in Leon’s head, the cursed saber warm and alive in his hands. 

“…Don’t you get lonely, Chal?” Leon had once murmured, his thumb passing idly over the eye-stone in the blade. 

 _…Well, things **are** a lot more interesting with **you** , here, aren’t they?_ Had come the amused reply.   _I haven’t had this much fun in **ages**. _

Leon felt a foreign sensation as his face softened into a smile. 

* * *

Chaltier could have easily let Leon make his own mistakes, and often did, but the demon often took it upon himself to alert Leon to unseen dangers he sensed.  More than once, Leon had felt a surge of _otherness_  as Chaltier took hold of his body and moved it at speeds even his new vampire reflexes should not have managed.  Chaltier seemed to be _protecting_  him. 

But… why?

 

 

In the demon’s own words, perhaps he was beginning to _like_  this sharp tongued vampire boy, his young master. Maybe it was the small amount of something approaching kinship between them.  Both of them knew pain and loneliness all too well. Leon, a vampire, understood the insatiable, incessant hunger in a way no human master ever could.  Leon understood what it meant to be a tool.  It was enough to make Chaltier find the boy _relatable_. That was something he’d thought impossible.

For the first time that he could remember, Chaltier felt something stir the dust in the depths in his heart, the ashes of his lost humanity. It was the sensation of the foundations of Chaltier's identity shuddering, every blow the strike of a blacksmith's hammer. It was the feeling of his shell of disinterest flaking away like so much scale to reveal the glowing blade beneath. This broken, beautiful boy was the anvil on which he had unwittingly flung himself, to be changed and revitalized and _live_ again. Leon was _his_ young master, and no-one else’s. And for once, the thought of being bound to Leon no longer irked him.  He felt the stirrings of _pride_ in his core.  It was not compassion, he thought, nothing so warm could exist in his withered heart. But Chaltier smiled the next time he met with Leon, and the expression held no more malice.  

 

* * *

 

It had only been two painful years of serving Hugo, but Leon was bitter and his tongue and blade had grown equally wicked. He felt the murmurs laden with fear, scorn, or curiosity follow his steps, as his vampire peers learned his face.  His name was now known among Hugo’s faction. He was respected, but this knowledge brought him no joy. The cold of the stone city had sunken itself into his very bones, into his heart.  Killing brought him no pleasure, but he threw himself into swordplay with a desperate single-mindedness, anything to give himself purpose.  The ring of steel was his heartbeat, the living blade his anchor.  Even if the scent of human blood was nauseating, and the cries grating, he fought because he had someone to protect.  At least he was fighting for a _reason_.  He was beginning to question whether either side in the war remembered the reasons for which _they_ fought.  He wasn’t sure the humans were worth saving, either, but Hugo would neither let him flee nor die, so Leon fought. 

All it took was one moment of hesitation, faced with the wide eyes of a child trying to hide from him, for word to get back to Hugo.  All it took was one look at Marian, brandished like a bloody, bruised trophy for Leon to crumple.  All it took was for one lost little soldier boy to witness the exchange, and _everything changed_. 

 

* * *

 

The dust cleared as Hugo’s messengers took their leave, and Leon trembled in their wake.  If Chaltier had chosen that moment to wrest control, he might have succeeded.  But Chaltier was thoughtful and silent. Leon should have heard the hesitant footsteps approaching, but his thoughts were elsewhere.  A voice hailed him, and he jumped. 

“That woman… she’s human, right?”  

Leon snarled.  This human boy, this little lost lamb, had _no business_ poking his nose into Leon’s. 

“We need to _save her!_ ” The boy exclaimed, giving Leon pause. 

“… _We?_ ” He breathed, incredulous, his lip curling upward to reveal a gleaming fang.  His indigo eyes glinted dangerously. Who the hell did this soldier think he was? He spoke treason and suicide all at once. 

“Yes,” the blond insisted, “Or did I misunderstand? You don’t want them to hurt her, either, right?”  His eyes were sparkling with a disgusting amount of passion.  Leon already found this boy irritating, and scarcely a minute had yet passed. “So help me save her!”

“Absolutely not,” Leon growled.  

Naturally, he found himself traveling with this walking headache within the hour.

 

* * *

 

 

Stahn Aileron was the blond boy’s name, so Leon had learned no matter how he protested that he wasn’t interested in pleasantries. Stahn, too, had come into possession of a cursed sword, a black demon named Dymlos.  That name stirred a murmur of interest from Chal, and Leon decided that it wouldn’t _kill_ him to let the boy talk about himself.  Leon learned that Stahn grew up out in the country- that explained the boy's unrefined air and unruly mane of hair, at least.  

....That is, this  _would_  kill them if the boy always spoke at such a volume.  Leon knew the streets were deserted, but his heart beat a stressful tattoo against his chest, the panic he refused to show still making him glance over his shoulder and cringe whenever the boy broke the silence around them.  He cut off the next outburst with a furious hiss, and Stahn apologetically lowered his voice to a murmur. 

“Sorry.  I just… You’re the first vampire I’ve seen like _you_.  And… well, the first one who seemed worth talking to instead of fighting.”  

Leon rolled his eyes. 

“I would hope you didn’t try to chat up every bloodsucker you see. You’ll end up dead _sooner_ instead of later.”

Stahn’s eyebrows disappeared into his bangs at the slur.  A vampire using a derogatory term for ‘vampire,’ huh? 

“You’d hope, huh?” Stahn said with a little grin. “Instead of rooting for the vampires?”  

Leon cursed silently. Well, it didn’t particularly matter what Stahn thought of him. Leon doubted either of them would survive long enough for this to come bite him in the ass later. 

“I don’t care if you slaughter each other.  But if Hugo ends up in the crossfire, I wouldn’t mind so much,” he muttered, the last mostly to himself.  Stahn must have heard, though, because he made a concerned noise. 

“Hugo. Gilchrist? The one those other fangs were talking about? The one you’re supposed to serve?”

Leon snorted. “He is a monster who thinks he is a god.”  A monster who could pin Leon down like a weak kitten and tear screams from his throat until even Leon’s voice had forsaken him, if Hugo so desired. Leon suppressed a shudder.  Hugo had yet to break Leon’s body so thoroughly. It was the knowledge and the promise that he  _could_  and _would_  that was so terrifying.  

They continued to walk in silence after that.

 

* * *

 

Leon had envisioned many possible outcomes of this ill-fated venture, but none of them had prepared him for the reality of their _success_.  He felt an involuntary flicker of respect bubble up within, respect for this boy who was  _too stubborn_  to fail even when succeeding defied all logic.  Stahn called his team in to rendezvous at a given location, and Leon couldn’t help but tremble a bit as he felt the warmth of Marian’s arm across his shoulder.  The three of them walked carefully, mindful of her injuries and possible vampire scouts.  But they met no resistance, and Leon melted back into the shadows as Stahn was welcomed back by his allies- his _friends_ , from the look of it, as one redheaded woman with a broadsword gave him a friendly thump on the back that nearly sent the Stahn sprawling in the dirt. Another man with red bands on his cuffs and dark skin was watching with a more reserved smile.  Something stirred within Leon’s memory.  That man had been someone of some kind of political importance before the world had ended, he was pretty sure. None of it mattered, now, of course. The Hiiragis were the only family of power that mattered now. 

Leon never saw the sniper with silver hair, watching him with narrow eyes and a grim expression.  The man’s finger hovered over the trigger of a cursed rifle, waiting for the ambush to come, now that Woodrow’s squad had taken the bait.  Damn his brother Kureto for being willing to sacrifice these children for a chance to lure out more vampires to kill, but he’d be damned if he’d just _let_  the fangs lay a hand on these young soldiers.   _Especially_ not after they'd already lost so many promising young fighters to Kureto's last scheme.

But the ambush never came, and Major General Shinya Hiiragi now watched the indigo-eyed vampire with more interest.  Was this one a traitor, too? Shinya had once thought it to be impossible, but he’d been faced with several things he hadn’t wanted to believe in the past month.  He banished his demon, Byakkomaru, and rose quietly to his feet.   There was no need for Kureto to know about this.  Shinya had a blond soldier, and possibly a rebel vampire, to find. 

 

 

* * *

Leon wasn’t one to ask for favors, but neither could he simply walk freely within a human city. Still, with his human face and a salvaged uniform, he managed to sneak in by keeping his fangs hidden and keeping Chaltier highly visible as proof of his esteemed place within the JIDA’s ranks. He smiled, false and close-mouthed, his childlike face and midnight eyes creating the perfect deception.

He was looking for Stahn, wanting to inquire about his own lost sister.  Stahn was an elder brother himself, so he should understand Leon's plight.

Leon found Shinya Hiiragi instead. 

* * *

“Emilio Katrea,” Shinya had called, his mild tone like a slap to Leon’s face, “I think you should come with me.   _Now_. Before my dear eldest brother discovers you.”  The Major General's words were deceptively light, his lips curved into a smile,  _always_ a smile.  Leon had never been sure if the man could be trusted.   _Nobody_ smiled that much who wasn't trying to hide something.  

Leon glared, analyzing _this_ smile to see if it was as full of poison as the ones he remembered.  …He relented, finding nothing there but a promise. 

 

* * *

 

Leon left the small office, shaking with the new knowledge that his sister was alive and safe. It was impressive and a bit frightening that Shinya had managed to discover, identify, and research Emilio in so short a time, discovering the note in his file about his insistence on locating his sister.  The fact that Shinya had not treated him like a monster was perhaps the most surprising and spoke of hidden layers to this man.  It seemed that Leon was not the only traitor among the vampires.  But then, there had been traitors on every side in this war, he was learning.  He had yet _another_ group of traitors to locate, now, and a message to relay in exchange for the knowledge he’d been freely given. Curse Shinya for knowing that Emilio had believed in honor.   _Blast_  him for correctly suspecting that this belief had not died with his humanity.  Leon had a debt to repay, and a blond idiot to locate.  Leon would need a liaison if he hoped for a civil encounter with these friends on the outside, a group of teenagers who had temporarily withdrawn from the war.

 

* * *

 

Leon should have known better than to be surprised when Stahn’s friends insisted on coming with him, and Shinya had pulled enough strings to get everything on paper as a recon mission.  Leon was impressed; that part wasn’t even a lie.  Slowly realizing that perhaps Shinya was the only remaining _sane_ figure of reasonable authority in the higher ranks, Leon also decided that it would be best to get the introductions over with while Shinya was still in the briefing room to mitigate the potential disaster.

Leon bit the proverbial bullet and bluntly showed his fangs.  To their credit, Stahn’s friends needed only a hushed and urgent minute of debate with Stahn and the Hiiragi to come to some sort of agreement.   The tall, muscular redheaded woman strode up to him, and Leon had to crane his head back to meet her eyes.  She extended a hand to him, introducing herself as Mary Argent, a name Leon recognized only from his prior discussion with the Major General. 

Leon’s breath caught in his throat, and he looked sharply over to Shinya, who merely winked at him. 

“…I hope my sister hasn’t been causing you too much trouble?” Leon croaked, after a beat, realizing there was probably no way of keeping the fact that he was a vampire a secret from his sister.  Not when his sister's best friend and fellow treasure hunter (when off-duty) was going to be traveling with him.  But then Mary grinned, and Leon felt that maybe things would be all right after all. 

 

* * *

 

Things were most certainly _not_ all right. 

Leon was bleeding from a shallow graze on his thigh, staring down a dozen vampires and one noble with short grey hair who looked vaguely familiar… someone loyal to Hugo, but far less dangerous.  Stahn’s friends - _Leon'_ _s allies_  - were making short work of the rabble between them and the noble.  

 

* * *

 

In the short two days they’d been traveling, Leon had begun to warm up to these people, against his better judgement.  They were still humans, but they were _tolerable_  humans. Despite this, Leon occasionally found himself needing to retreat from the noise.  Tonight, Leon went to join Woodrow in the back of their vehicle as the taller man watched tirelessly for danger.  Woodrow was cooler and more formal than Stahn, but he was blessedly quiet.  Why did Stahn, Mary, and Kongman all have to be so damn _loud_? 

Woodrow Kelvin, at least, did not ask nosy questions. He merely _observed_. Somehow, though, Leon felt that Woodrow still managed to dig out more answers from their silence than any of the others had wrenched from him with their incessant questions. The man's handsome, dark face was kind but attentive.  Leon idly brought a hand to Chaltier, feeling a familiar murmur of awareness. He briefly glanced over Woodrow, frowning slightly when he discovered that the man carried no cursed weapon.   

“Igtenos isn’t a possession-type,” Woodrow murmured in response to the silent query.  “So I don’t need to carry him. He comes when summoned,” the taller man continued, heedless of Chaltier’s startled cry of recognition which only Leon could hear.  Leon’s thumb brushed sympathetically against Chaltier’s hilt.  Leon would not wish for anyone he knew to become a demon, either.  It seemed that fate liked to play her cruel hand to everyone he knew. 

“It seems like Chal knew him once.  It’s funny. _All_ of us monsters were people once, but it’s hard to remember you were ever anything else, sometimes,” Leon muttered.  It was hard to think of himself as anything but a vampire, when he had so many constant reminders.  Still, it was worthwhile to fight his nature.  He’d learned to ignore the constant ache in his abdomen, now.  He had a limited supply of blood vials from Hugo, and he wanted this freedom to last as long as it could.  Maybe he could even convince these humans to slay him before hunger and madness drove him crawling back to Hugo.   

His musings were cut short by a cry of warning from Chaltier, and Leon quickly leaped out of the vehicle to greet the lone Four Horseman with cursed steel. 

 

* * *

 

The Horseman had been a distraction, and they hadn’t noticed the vampires approaching until the last moment.  Leon had escaped harm save for the graze on his thigh, and the rest of their ragged little group seemed to be fine.  Woodrow was picking off fang after fang with expert ranged shots from Igtenos, his bow. Leon was confident that this noble was here to retrieve him, Hugo’s errant little hound, so he reacted a moment too late when the noble darted forward- not towards Leon, but _Stahn_. 

Leon moved without thinking, throwing himself between that noble’s blade and Stahn’s fragile, human body.  The blade sank into his right shoulder, piercing it and protruding obscenely from his chest.  The noble’s face was frozen with shock, but it quickly twisted into savage glee as he wrenched the blade upward, cleaving it out of Leon’s body in a bloody arc.  Leon convulsed, collapsing like a limp puppet at Stahn’s feet, barely registering the burst of ash as Woodrow managed to snipe the noble at last.  He felt something wet seeping against his hip, and the merry tinkle of broken glass sealed his doom. His only hope of survival had shattered from the impact.  Not even Chaltier would be able to heal this without Leon's vampiric regenerative powers boosting him.  But even so, he heard the determined snarl informing him that Chaltier would do his damndest to _try_. 

 

* * *

 

Leon didn’t know if it had been minutes or hours, but time passed in a blur of muted panic around him, until he finally became aware of Stahn sitting beside him in the back of the vehicle, pressing his hands to Leon’s mutilated shoulder. Leon wanted to laugh, but that would have hurt too much. It was like watching someone try stop a cannonball with a piece of paper- utterly, _painfully_  futile. 

Leon was dying, and Stahn was just lying to himself if he thought otherwise. He couldn’t bear to keep looking at the anguished expression on the older boy’s face, so he turned his head away before speaking.

“Is everyone else okay?”

Stahn started at the sound of Leon’s voice, but managed to crack a lopsided smile. “Yeah.  Yeah, we’re all fine.  You should worry about yourself for a change.”

Leon _did_  laugh, and immediately regretted it as sickening pain cut through him like cursed steel.  He could taste his own blood, and he now realized that he felt nothing where his right arm should be.  A glance down revealed it hanging uselessly at his side.  No, nothing wasn’t quite right.  It was a mass of dull pain, but nothing else. He couldn’t so much as make the fingers twitch. 

Leon tried to take a deep breath, but that hurt, too, and made a fresh wave of red seep past Stahn’s soaked fingers.  Leon felt weak, and more tired by the second.  This was pointless, yet those hands simply responded by applying even more pressure. It hurt, and he could hear Chaltier’s tired murmur like some kind of mantra as he tried to do the impossible. 

“Stahn…  Stahn, stop,” he rasped. “E….enough.  I’m d-dying and we both know it.”

Stahn’s refusal was surprisingly steady, his voice firm.

 

“Shut up,” Stahn retorted, surprisingly calm. “You’re gonna be fine! Just hang on a b-”

“I can’t,” Leon choked. “I _can’t,”_ he wanted to throttle this stubborn mule of a boy.   _I’m not strong enough_ , he wanted to shout, _Why can’t you see that_? “Please, just- _stop_.”

Leon’s breath rattled in his chest like a broken thing, blood creeping up the back of his tongue. “Why the hell do you _care_  so much!?” He whispered, tears he couldn’t shed beginning to burn in his eyes. “Just… give up on me and think of y-”

Stahn cut him off, his eyes burning with fury and sorrow.

 

“Don’t you EVER tell me to give up on my friends!!” The gentle boy roared, his face a mask of determination and fear.  The gravity of that statement took a moment to sink in, and Leon slowly turned his head to regard Stahn with wide eyes.

“Is your _brain_  broken!?” Leon finally responded in a hoarse, incredulous whisper. “’ _ **Friend**_ ’?”

“ _Yes_ ,” came Stahn’s tearful and heartfelt response, so simple and utterly honest. Stahn was a terrible liar, anyway, so he clearly believed what he was saying.  But how?

  

“I’m a _vampire_ ,” Leon felt the need to point out, his confusion apparent. 

“ _Yes_ ,” Stahn repeated.  “So??”

Leon was utterly lost, utterly defeated, in the face of this boy’s passion and simple truths.  What had become of his life? Was this guy for real? _Was_  he real?

Leon couldn’t really argue with that, so he caved in. _You win, Stahn_.

 

“I,” Leon finally choked.  “As… as long as we’re… c-clear on that…. I guess?”

It wouldn’t matter soon, anyway. Leon knew he wouldn’t survive the hour.  If this small victory would help Stahn cope with what was to come, then so be it. Stahn could be his friend.  It was rather nicer to die in the company of a friend than than a stranger, Leon admitted to himself.  He would try to hold on for a bit longer, but he wasn’t sure what difference it would make.

* * *

Leon was dimly aware of the hushed murmurings of the others in the front of the vehicle, and of Woodrow crouched in the open rear, his cursed bow - _Igtenos,_ his memory supplied with Chaltier’s strained voice - watching the horizon, protecting his comrades as the younger soldier held a dying vampire boy.  What a bizarre picture they must paint.  He could hear them wondering why Leon’s wounds weren’t healing, speculating about his eyes and his round ears, probably not realizing that he’d never swallowed a drop of human blood and _still_ finding it in their hearts to feel genuine concern and sorrow for him.  

It was impossible for Leon to genuinely trust others, but he did find that he felt some measure of _safety_  with Stan’s friends.  They seemed like decent people, if misguided in showing any compassion for a _vampire_.  It was… nice, this not-being-alone thing.  His eyes would barely focus, and the pain wouldn’t let him go.  Every now and then, his body would convulse, and Stahn scrambled to hold him down lest he aggravate his wounds further.  Leon had already flung his left hand out, cracking the thick bulletproof glass in the process and smearing it with his own blood.  

“Hey, Stahn,” he had whispered at one point.  “Please, _please_  wash your hands after this.” He couldn’t bear the thought of soft kid like Stahn accidentally swallowing any of the blood Leon had managed to thoroughly smear all over the back of the vehicle.  If Stahn became a vampire, he probably wouldn’t last a week. Leon didn’t even know if his blood _could_  turn a human, but it wasn’t worth the risk.

“Uh.  Okay. I was gonna do it anyway, but why?”

Leon heaved another choking sigh, barely noticing the blood that trickled down his chin. He was a mess.  

“Stahn. _Please_. Just do it.”

Stahn frowned at him- the expression looked more like a wobbly pout in Leon’s opinion -  but he eventually echoed the sigh. “I will. I promise. Sheesh.”

* * *

Black danced at the corners of Leon’s vision, and Chal’s voice seemed to be simultaneously in his ear and very distant.  A horrible thought suddenly jolted Leon back to alertness. 

Chaltier.

“Stahn,” he gasped, rousing the older boy from his trance-like concentration. Leon barely registered the fact that Stahn’s hands had finally fallen away from the gaping wound, which now seemed to be only slowly seeping, and were cupped to cushion Leon’s head instead.

“I… W… wait, wh- “ he choked, gasping, struggling to force the words out of unresponsive lips, “what… about _Chal_ -!  Tha-h…” Gods, not _now_. Why was speaking so difficult now that he had something _important_  to say!?

 

He tried to smack his fist against the wall of the vehicle in frustration, but all he managed was to clutch at it weakly. 

“That idiot… will get- _hrk”_ He coughed, the beginnings of frustrated tears stinging his eyes with fury. “L…lonely.”

Stahn was silent for a moment, taking Leon’s useless hand into his own. Leon couldn’t move it still, but he felt the warmth that radiated from Stahn’s gentle hold.  The truth was, neither of them really knew what happened to a contracted demon when its master perished.  And talking about it now would be admitting defeat, to Stahn. 

“He won’t get lonely if you don’t leave,” Stahn whispered, “so _don’t leave."_  Stahn was pleading, his voice sounding the smallest and most frightened that Leon had yet heard it. 

Leon choked out a wet, bubbling laugh.  “You… make it s…sound… so _easy_ ,” he whispered, his head sinking down as he felt too tired to keep supporting it. Stahn inhaled sharply, then shuffled himself noisily after a moment.

“Hey…. c’mere,” he whispered, having rearranged himself so that Leon merely had to turn a bit in order to lean against Stahn instead. Leon was too tired to protest being coddled, and too afraid to admit that he was grateful for the new configuration.  He was starting to feel a chill in the air. 

Stahn surprised him by tugging Leon’s head to rest comfortably against his chest, tucking Leon under his chin like some overgrown child.  Leon still didn’t have the heart to complain, content to listen to the steady thrum of Stahn’s heart.  Stahn wrapped his arm carefully around Leon, and Leon found himself imagining what it might be like to have a family.

 

“You know it’s not your fault, Leon,” Stahn whispered, still addressing Leon’s earlier concern.  “I’m sure he’d understand, if… Ah, but you haven’t given up, right?   Leon?”

 

“…Leon?”

* * *

Leon blinked away the darkness, his heart stuttering as he beheld his first friend, his most unlikely friend. 

Chaltier was surprisingly serene, exhausted, but without resentment.

His face was close enough that their foreheads were nearly touching, and Leon fought the tightness in his throat.  At least it seemed like he was being given this chance- Leon bit his lip.  He was being allowed the opportunity to say _goodbye_. 

Chaltier finally spoke, his voice the softest Leon had ever heard, almost _gentle._ For a demon.

“ _Lonely,” huh?_

  

 

But Chaltier was smiling.  Leon tried to return it, but his lips wouldn’t cooperate.

“What will happen to Chal…?” He finally asked.

Chal drew back, just enough to look Leon over with something akin to satisfaction and _pride_. 

 _That, I think, depends on **you** , and these friends you’ve finally found_.

Leon blinks up at his demon, confused.

Fire sears his veins, and a deep, bass thrum pulses through him.

_I won’t leave you.  Now, open your eyes, my young master._

Leon did.

* * *

With a gasp, Leon wrenched himself upright, choking on the heat that seared down his throat, his chest heaving as the gaping fissure through his body finally began to repair itself. 

“H-how…?” He choked, turning to look at Stahn.

Stahn merely met him with a triumphant grin, holding out his palm and showing Leon the sizable gash there.  

“Sorry I didn’t think of it sooner.  I don’t know as much about vampires as I should,” he explained, sheepishly.  Leon wanted to retch, the thought nauseating due to nothing but deeply ingrained psychological conditioning, but what was done was done.  He would need to have a _long_  talk with Stahn later. 

“No, I’m pretty sure I would’ve taken your head off if you’d tried that while I was still conscious,” Leon managed weakly, flopping back against the wall with a sigh. “You.  You and I need to have a talk later. I’m too tired to have it now,” he grumbled.  He hadn’t given Stahn _permission_  to do something like this, and part of him felt betrayed.  But he forced those thoughts down, to be dealt with later.  He knew Stahn had good intentions.  He knew it.  He didn’t have the energy to argue, but… part of him was glad that there would _be_ a ‘later,’ a ‘later’ with Leon in it.  

He brushed a thank-you against Chal’s hilt, and felt a gleeful cackle in response.  No matter how fate flowed, it seemed that Leon couldn’t help but be dragged along by the current.  For the first time, though, Leon thought that maybe not all surprises had to be a _bad_  thing. 

* * *

 

[ [Irony of Fate](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=krzN_z3hL6w) ]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Of note, every chapter name comes from a song from either a Tales OST or the OnS OST. Names may be from the lyrics and not the name of the track, but I'll link to the song for the title at the end of each chapter.)


	2. Come and break it down for me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey, Chal? Do you ever miss them?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm turning this into a collection for writings associated with this setting. The main event is the first chapter, sure, but there's a lot I didn't cover there. Each subsequent 'chapter' will probably have a specific theme, rather than a direct continuation of the narrative. This chapter takes place generally before the events of the previous one. Subsequent chapters will have a note stating where they take place, since it's more like a collection of how different characters experienced shared events, a common thread creating a story from many perspectives. Thus, "Tales Of.")

Emilio Katrea did not consider himself a sociable person, and most people who knew him would be inclined to agree.  However, when one suddenly became host to a demon and faced a future of sharing one's mind with an unknown entity, he could hardly be blamed for having  _questions_.  And Emilio could not expect to master any weapon or tool without first knowing what it was and what it was capable of. 

* * *

 

The demon greeted Emilio with a crack of thunder and the half remembered echo of a deep voice, its words indistinct but full of poison and the sinister promise of pain.  Emilio glared through the stinging rain, refusing to give in to his childhood fears.  His defiance was met with a delighted chuckle.  Emilio steeled himself for the inevitable attack, but he flinched as delicate hands slipped around his shoulders, a nostalgic scent and dark hair floating in his periphery.  

"My mother is long dead," he snapped. "Was the last person who tried to tame you an imbecile? Only a fool would be deceived by something like this."

The hands withdrew, taking the black mist with them. 

 ** _You're an odd one,_** Chaltier murmured, crouching closer to eye level from his perch atop the ornate saber.  The silence stretched for a moment, and then the demon leapt down without warning.  Emilio took an involuntary step back from the crimson eyes mere inches from his own, refusing to be intimidated.  Rather than draw his weapon, he merely folded his arms over his chest, regarding the demon with a raised eyebrow. 

"I'm not interested in fighting you right now," Emilio finally stated, earning a derisive laugh from the demon.

 ** _I'm not going to give you a choice_** , the demon hissed, lunging forward.  Emilio dodged him, annoyed but not surprised.  He hadn't expected this to be  _easy_ , after all. 

"I suppose you're probably used to having your way," he retorted, "but that doesn't mean I'm going to _let_ you."

Emilio drew his blade quickly enough to block the next strike, the sound of ringing steel familiar and welcome.  He parried easily, his feet moving effortlessly as he let the blade become an extension of his body.  He was one with the sword, each movement fluid and effortless as breathing, familiar yet exciting.  His heart beat a joyous counterpoint against each blow as it was met with just the necessary amount of force.  It didn't matter that words had failed in this first meeting. He'd spent the better part of his short lifetime preparing for a moment like this - the chance to commune in this whirling dance of flashing steel with an equally skilled opponent.  He didn't  _need_ words.  He let his sword convey the only truths that mattered.

It was with a thrill of satisfaction that the human boy watched the demon's mask of determination slowly give way to confusion and, finally, curiosity.  

Chaltier stepped back, his posture wary, and lowered his sword.

"I only wanted to talk," Emilio stated, mirroring the demon. 

The walls slammed back into place behind those crimson eyes, and Emilio sighed as the demon vanished. 

* * *

The next time Emilio visited the demon in his head, he was met with with suspicion that quickly turned to scorn.  Emilio communicated the only way Chaltier would let him- with steel.  Not a word was exchanged between them. 

* * *

The third meeting brought him face to face with his elder sister, as Emilio had last seen her.  He felt a twinge of longing at the realization that the girl before him was younger than himself.  He hadn't given up looking for her, but he feared that he might not even recognize her if their paths should ever cross.  He pushed that thought away, eyes narrowing at the demon.  

"Do you enjoy this sort of thing only  _because_ you're a demon, or were you always a bully?"  Emilio asked, keeping his tone carefully neutral. He had been doing some very relevant  _research._

Chaltier smirked at him with his sister's face.  "Why on earth should I tell  _you_?"

Emilio tilted his head.  "...Could it be that you can't remember?"

The little girl scowled, her form shifting to one Emilio realized was now more familiar. 

Chaltier was built for grace, not intimidation.  He was slender, his features better described as elegant than handsome.  Emilio wondered if his hair had always been silver, for Chaltier looked to be only a little older than Emilio himself. The cut of his high-collared coat seemed foreign, and Emilio's eyes traced briefly over the demon's face, noting the shape of his jaw, his eyes, his cheekbones, and wondered about the origins of the man this demon had once been. 

"It must be hard," Emilio murmured, and all of the annoyance drained out of him, "if that's so."

Chaltier's eyes were hard and cold.   ** _It's common knowledge that all demons thrive on the suffering of others. Only a fool would ask a question like that_** , he hissed. 

Emilio felt a flicker of sorrow for the man Chaltier had once been, to be so forcefully changed into this sadistic creature, to have this malicious nature forced upon him. 

"Did Chaltier know this, before he became you?  How did this happen?"

The crimson burned with more fury and emotion than Emilio had ever witnessed from Chaltier.

 ** _It was not by choice!_ ** The demon howled, and the earth opened its jaws beneath Emilio, trying to swallow him whole.  Emilio was thrust violently into wakefulness, and he thought in silence for a long while afterward. 

* * *

 

Emilio found himself crossing blades with Chaltier yet again, and he had to admire the demon's skill and determination.  He was quite the opponent, and Emilio wondered if the demon enjoyed the swordplay as much as Emilio himself. 

This one ended in a draw, and Emilio smiled.  "Finally learning my style?"  He was panting from the exertion, but he couldn't completely mask the elation he felt.  "I guess I need to step it up a notch next time."

Chaltier's brow furrowed with confusion. **_'Next time.'  Why do you keep doing this, human?  Do you honestly still expect me to answer your pointless questions? What are you trying to prove?_**

Emilio huffed a soft laugh.  "Because I want to. I want to learn about you.  You still don't want to talk, but you're always willing to duel, and that's something I think we both enjoy, right?"  He tilted his head, a sharp glint in his eyes. "You have too much skill for someone who only learned the sword out of necessity.  And that's something that belongs to  _you_ , not just something you do because you're a demon, right?"

Chaltier was silent, his eyes trying to pierce the layers of the boy before him, accusing to hide their bewilderment. 

"That's good.  Some small part of you is still  _you_ , even if a lot of you is different now.  It's good to know not all demons are the same."

Chaltier sheathed his sword.

**_Is that what they've been teaching you?_ **

Emilio shrugged. "Nobody seems interested in talking about anything except how dangerous you are, and what you can do.  I guess nobody thinks it's relevant to write about your hobbies and personal preferences."

Chaltier laughed.   ** _Somehow, that doesn't surprise me._**

Emilio felt his heart skip at this small victory.  Chaltier had a pleasant laugh, when it wasn't laced with venom.  Emilio wanted to hear it again, and he realized that he had a new goal.

 

* * *

 

Chaltier greeted him with Marian's face, and Emilio concealed his disappointment with a snort.

"I'm not worried about her. She's perfectly safe," he stated, his tone unimpressed.

Chaltier slipped back into his own shape with a laugh.   ** _You write to her all the time, though.  Are you lonely?_**

"Are  _you_?" Emilio countered, and Chaltier's face was once more an unyielding mask. 

 

* * *

 

 

Emilio asked no questions, this time.  He merely drew his blade, and cocked his head.  "Spar with me."

Chaltier smirked. **_I do not_ spar _, young_ master _.  If I beat you, I'm taking your body for my own_**.

Emilio's mouth twitched into an answering grin. "I guess I'll just have to keep winning, then."

Despite that very real promise, Emilio wondered if Chaltier realized that he couldn't completely hide the euphoric spark that flashed through his eyes as their blades met once more. Emilio let the familiar rhythm anchor him, his blade a flickering tongue of flame that danced forward to meet its twin, each ringing impact echoing to create a melody known only to them.  Not for the first time, he wondered if this nightly dance with danger was giving Chaltier the feeling of  _purpose_ once more. 

 

* * *

 

 

"Thank you," Emilio murmured by way of greeting, to Chaltier's apparent confusion. Seeing the question in those guarded, crimson eyes, he elaborated. "That mission was teetering on the verge of unmitigated disaster, but I succeeded with your aid.  We are  _far_ more coordinated than anyone else in my squad."

Chaltier lets out a positively  _delighted_ snicker. **_What, you thought I was twiddling my thumbs every time we fought? I've been analyzing the way you fight from the very beginning.  How else am I going to overtake you? It's only natural that I'd be able to anticipate your tactics and act in accord._**

Emilio nods. "I'd expect no less from you.  That doesn't mean I'm not grateful."

Chaltier is silent, but it's nothing Emilio hadn't expected. 

 

* * *

 

 

Emilio is met by crimson eyes inches from his own, his hand still stinging from blood freely offered.  There are chains, and Chaltier explains the rules of their new game.  Emilio can't help but find it  _wrong_ , seeing the demon so bound.  Chaltier hasn't finished speaking when Emilio cuts him off. 

"Enough. In the end, it's no different from before.  If you win, my body is yours."  He draws his blade and strikes, Chaltier's chains shattering like so much glass.  He finds no joy in the demon's discomfort, and victory would be hollow with his opponent starting at such a disadvantage.  Chaltier rubs his wrists with a suspicious frown. The iron bands did not disappear, and the orphaned links chimed a soft counterpoint to his movements.  But Chaltier let them be, and Emilio would later find himself wondering about them still. 

Their blades met with renewed passion, sparks falling like lost stars as Emilio whirled to meet every strike.  Chaltier was at his most determined, and Emilio could feel his desperation behind every blow. For the first time, Emilio found himself almost evenly matched, and he struggled to retain control of the flow of battle.  

In the months that Chaltier had resisted him, Emilio was now finding his answers, and the truth made him ache from the cruelty of this world. 

He ignored the bloody defiance that Chaltier had graven into his body. The demon's sword had a voice of its own, ringing high and clear above every lie, every hostile glare, above the silence, and Emilio could not allow himself to pity him.  To pity the demon would be the most callous of insults. But Emilio would allow himself to grieve- for the demon driven nearly to madness by isolation and forced servitude, and for the man he had once been.  Emilio had another goal, and he was more determined than ever.

With a flurry of feints and strikes, he drove Chaltier back, disarming him with the final blow.  His blade hovered against the demon's throat.  Emilio withdrew it, letting it glide briefly upward until the flat of it ghosted against Chaltier's cheek.

"Sorry. I can't afford to lose just yet. I still need this body," he murmured. "But that doesn't mean you aren't welcome here," he added, letting the sword fall away, and offering his hand.  "I'm sure this means nothing coming from a human, but... I don't have to be your enemy.  I'm not asking you to stop fighting me. I know you must."

Chaltier was silent, eyes unreadable and shuttered.  Emilio smiled.

"I want to know what  _you_ want this to be.  Just know that I would never ask you to be anyone but yourself."

Chaltier did not scowl, and Emilio felt a prickle of anticipation.  After a moment, the demon finally spoke.

_**...Let me think about it**._

Emilio's smile was reserved, as he tried to suppress the surge of elation and triumph.  "Of course."

 

* * *

 

 

As Emilio lay broken on the cold stone, he regretted only never hearing Chaltier's answer.  The vampire loomed over him, and Emilio didn't even have the strength to speak, all of it having fled his body with the blood still gushing out onto the floor.  He tried to move his head to look for Marian, but even that was too much effort.  Large hands brushed over him, and he wanted to twist himself away from them, but he couldn't.  Black danced at the edges of his vision, creeping inward as the hall rang with a sickeningly familiar laugh.  Emilio, for the life of him, couldn't remember where he'd heard it before. His heart stuttered brokenly in his chest, and he slipped out of the world just as something hot and terrible filled his mouth.

Emilio awoke in the familiar emptiness of their shared mindscape, afraid to know what the encroaching shadows meant where there had always been pristine white. 

 ** _Emilio_** , Chaltier murmured,  ** _is no more._**

The boy felt numb, but he knew this to be true. 

 ** _My contract was to serve Emilio_** , Chaltier continued.

The boy nodded, finally sitting up, trembling with the effort. 

"I can never go back," he whispered. "Emilio is dead."

Chaltier tilted his head. 

"Why... why aren't you..."

_**Taking advantage of you?** _

The boy nodded, flushing briefly at the choice of words, though his grumbling brought a smile to the demon's face.

_**I don't know.  Maybe it's more interesting this way.  I want to see what you will do with this new life that has been forced upon you.** _

The weight of those words made the boy shiver.  They were the words of someone who looked up from the bottom of the same dark abyss that this boy had just been callously tossed into. 

"...I will need a new name," the boy finally sighed. 

Chaltier waited, his eyes like embers in the shadows that now embraced them. A silence that felt like an eternity passed, and the boy had an answer.

"Leon Magnus."

_**To the vampire Leon Magnus, I extend the same contract once offered to Emilio Katrea.** _

"Thank you, Chaltier," Leon whispered, feeling a little less lost. 

 

* * *

 

Even in his dreams, even in the dark sanctuary of his mind, Leon was never entirely free of the thirst.  Chaltier regarded him with something approximating pity.

_**I think I'm actually starting to miss that Kureto Hiiragi bastard.** _

A hoarse laugh tore itself from Leon's throat. "Yeah.  I know.  But I'll manage.  I think I'd almost rather starve, though."

Chaltier frowned, though the expression held no malice.

_**No. You wouldn't.  Trust me.  But you've a long while to go yet before it'll become too dangerous.  Just bear with it for now.** _

Leon shrugged.  It wasn't like Hugo would give him a choice, anyway.  If Leon refused, he would just be pinned down and his mouth pried open so that Hugo could pour his blood down Leon's throat.  Human blood certainly wasn't an option.  Hugo liked his twisted games, and the only human blood nearby was within Marian's body.  Leon would kill himself before he'd deliberately hurt her. 

Besides, Hugo seemed to have other plans.  Leon tried to push the memory of his 'training' out of his mind.

"At least I might have the chance to grow a few more inches," he grumbled, earning a chuckle from Chaltier.

 _ **That's right.  I imagine your foes will be more inclined to take you seriously if you can look them in the eye,**_ the demon teased, with what Leon swore was a  _giggle_. 

"What was that?" He growled, his hand dropping to his sword, though the words held no real bite. Chaltier bit his lip, holding in another laugh, and Leon relaxed again.  "You can laugh.  Goodness knows neither of us has a reason to do it very often."  And, privately, Leon found that it still had a nice ring, even if it came at his expense. 

Chaltier did, and Leon felt a bit less worn. 

 

* * *

 

 

To distract himself from the pain searing though his body, Leon decided it was finally time to try asking some of the questions that had been nagging him from the start. 

"Hey, Chaltier," he whispered, hunching forward, "do you ever miss eating?"

Chaltier tilted his head.   ** _I hardly remember what food tasted like, to be honest._**

Leon sighed, immediately regretting it when the action irritated his raw throat. "I see.  Sorry. I was feeling nostalgic.  What things _do_ you remember?"

Chaltier settled himself across from Leon, resting his chin in a hand and regarding the boy with tactfully suppressed amusement.

 _ **My name was Pierre**_ , he finally said.   _ **Major Pierre de Chaltier.**_

Another thing they had in common, Leon thought.  So Chaltier had been military, too, though definitely not Japanese. 

 _ **You were a bit like he was. Distant. Wanting to carry your own weight while trying to fill some pretty big boots to keep up with your peers.  Bad at making friends,**_ Chaltier teased. 

Leon didn't bother asking if he'd prefer to be called Pierre. The demon had introduced himself as Chaltier, and that was all the answer Leon needed.  He scowled at the jab, though he was too preoccupied for it to really bother him.  But he knew Chaltier liked to rile him up, so Leon indulged him. 

"Do you still like some of the same things that Pierre liked?" Leon asked, wondering if he would become a different person, too, with enough time. 

Chaltier took a moment to answer. He hadn't expected that question, and it took a bit of searching before even he himself knew the answer.

_**I... still like the color blue?** _

Leon rasped something like a laugh.  "That's certainly a start.  I'm not surprised, though.  You choose to wear a lot of it." His eyes flicked over the demon's favored ensemble.

Chaltier's other hand came up to join the first, his chin resting atop his interwoven fingers. 

 _**You also weren't wrong, before. Pierre was highly regarded for his skill with a sword.  I do still enjoy fighting a skilled opponent, not just because of everything I stand to gain from victory.  So... Losing to** _ **you** _**? It wasn't so bad, especially when you kept coming back every night.  I felt rather put out the few times you skipped.** _

That won him a small, pleased almost-smile from Leon. 

"I'm not well enough for it today, but I can't allow either of us to get rusty.  I'll make it up to you later.  I don't want to give that up, either."

 

* * *

 

 

"Do you remember any family or friends from before?" Leon whispered from where he lay on his back like a discarded doll, staring up into the familiar darkness. It was strange how it seemed almost comforting to him, now.  Maybe because it held no unpleasant surprises.  He knew exactly what waited for him here, and that singular presence was  _always_ welcome, these days. 

Chaltier came over to kneel beside him. 

_**Not very well.  Some of my companions, who were subjected to the same experiment, but that's a discussion for another time.** _

Leon was silent, but thankfully Chaltier understood. 

_**There was... I think, one person that I still remember to be a true friend.  But I can't even recall his name.** _

Leon found it was worth the effort to turn his head, just enough to look up at Chaltier.

_**He was unfairly tall.  Blond.  Liked to wear green.  Chin level with the top of my head.  Absolutely, disgustingly tall.  And.... I think he was quiet, in a thoughtful way.  A good listener. Pierre talked enough for both of us.** _

Leon saw something like regret flicker in the demon's rusty gaze, and he somehow suddenly felt like an intruder.

"I'm sorry."

Chaltier shrugged.

Leon bit his lip, turning back up to the impassive darkness, where no eyes lurked to witness and judge them.  They spoke no more that night.

 

* * *

 

 

"Hey.... Chal?"  Leon breathed, nearly delirious and weak with hunger.  Chaltier blinked at the nickname.  "Do... you ever miss them?"

Chaltier opened his mouth, and Leon cut him off with a gesture.  "I don't mean.... loneliness. Do you miss _them?_ I mean...  _can_ you miss them?  Is that... something you still feel? Does not having... those people... matter to you, the way it would have mattered to Pierre?"

Chaltier was shocked into thoughtful silence.  

_**It's... difficult to say.  Because so many memories are gone.  Even so...  I think, sometimes... I was probably happier then.** _

Leon tried to pretend he hadn't seen the lost look in Chaltier's eyes, brief though it had been. 

_**Yes.  Yes, I think I do.** _

Leon is silent for a long while. When he finally speaks, his voice is barely audible. 

"I know I would miss you, if you left."

Chaltier doesn't know what to make of that, but he lets the admission hang comfortably in the silence, rather than rejecting it. 

 

* * *

 

 

Chaltier watches Leon as the months bleed into each other, and he hates the way the boy becomes more and more like his surroundings- cold, silent, unfeeling.  He feels like this man, this  _Hugo_ is slowly leeching out the fire from this boy, turning him into just another loyal, lifeless fixture of this dark fortress.  Chaltier may be a demon who thrives on dark feelings and pain, but this? This wasn't pain. This wasn't  _feeling_. This was a horrifying void that threatened to slowly consume Leon whole. 

To his dismay, Chaltier realized that he didn't  _want_ this.  It wasn't worth it.  He was almost afraid to test his boundaries, afraid he might  _succeed_.  Maybe Leon's need for a fair fight was rubbing off on him, but this was just  _wrong_. 

Chaltier needed to do something to put the spark back into the boy.  The world seemed like it would be far, far too dull without Leon in it. 

_**Leon.** _

Leon jerked into attentiveness, glaring accusingly down at his sword.

_**That's better.  You haven't seen Marian in a while. Why don't you go visit her?  Take advantage of the one freedom that monster has allowed you.** _

Leon's hand tightened around Chaltier's hilt. 

"I didn't know you could speak to me like this."  His tone was almost _accusing_.  Chaltier chuckled.

 _**Well.  I didn't really think you were worth the** _ **effort** _**, before.  Besides, on the rare occasion I actually** _ **wanted _to tell you something outside of battle, it could usually wait until night.   It's different, now.  But you're changing the subject.  Go see Marian._**

Leon scowled.  "No."

_**Why not?  I think she'd be happy to see you after such a long time.** _

Leon bit his lip to focus.  "I don't trust myself not to hurt her in this state," he muttered, though it pained him to admit it. 

Chal huffed, and Leon had the sense that the demon was expecting an answer like that.

_**...I will stop you, if you try.  On my honor.** _

Leon considered this for a moment.  "On your  _name_ , you honor-less imp, and we might have a deal."

Chal gave a surprised laugh, and if Leon didn't know better, he would say it seemed like the demon was  _delighted_ that Leon had immediately caught him. 

 _ **On my name.**_   _ **I'll stop you if you try to hurt her. But I think you're stronger than you realize.**_

Leon sighed.  "All right. I'll take you up on it.  It would be nice to see another friendly face."  Leon could  _feel_ the smugness the demon was projecting.

 _**Because I** _ **like _you, young master, I'll give you a freebie this time and_** **also _promise to give your body back if I end up having to stop you._ This _time.  Don't get cocky just because you caught_ one  _loophole, master Leon._**

Leon was oddly touched, and it took him a moment to find his tongue. 

"...Why?"

 _**I told you.  Because I like you.  And it's not like you're human** _ **any** **more _.  I think that's allowed, without having to automatically revoke my status as a demon._**

Leon swallowed, his throat as dry as ever. 

"Neither of us is human.  Maybe that makes it easier.  I like you, too, though you're the only demon I've ever met."

The undercurrent of pleased silence filtering over from Chaltier made the thirst a bit more bearable, and he was able to talk to Marian without incident.  

 

* * *

  

Leon felt a bit more alive again, after that, and the next night found him drawing his blade for the first time in months.  He wanted to test out his new body properly, and he had kept the demon waiting long enough.  The fact that Chaltier  _had_ waited was reason enough to do this for him, if nothing else.  But Leon was feeling the itch, too, and this would do both of them a lot of good. 

"I did say I'd make it up to you, Chal.  Come at me!" 

Later, Leon would wonder if it was wrong that the ring of their clashing steel made his heart swell the way the embrace of a friend might affect a _normal_ person.  Was it wrong to hope that maybe Chaltier felt the same way? Was it wrong to want a demon for a friend?

Was it wrong to realize he'd already felt this way for a long time?

Was it wrong?

Was  _he_ wrong?

Leon stared up at the ceiling for a long time, but the shadows there held no answers for him. 

 

* * *

 

 

“…Don’t you get lonely, Chal?” Leon murmured, his thumb passing idly over the eye-stone in the blade as he lay in bed. 

 ** _…Well, things are a lot more interesting with you, here, aren’t they?_**   Had come the amused reply.   _ **I haven’t had this much fun in ages.**  _

Leon felt a foreign sensation as his face softened into a _real_ smile. 

"I'm glad you're here, too."

Leon felt a mix of pleasure and embarrassed gratitude from the demon in his blade, and for the first time in two years, he knew with certainty that there was at least one thing in his life he would never regret. 

 

[ [108](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OoWhR5opFzE) ]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pictured above: Leon and Chal, much later and after he permanently joins Stahn Aileron as a full vampire.


	3. (Reaching out to) No Man's Land

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stahn and company encounter a few more bumps on the way to locate the rogue squad, and Leon's demon has a few ideas of his own about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This chapter takes place the next day after the end of chapter 1)

 

"His name was Igtenos, wasn't it?" Leon whispered, his hand pausing its polishing motion.  He peered down at the cursed blade balanced carefully across his lap.  He didn't want to wake Stahn, though Leon needn't have worried- the taller boy slept like the dead.   "It was Igtenos who was tall and liked to wear green."  Leon invoked those traits because they seemed the least painful of possible reminders.  His grip tightened briefly around the cloth. _The only friend you can still remember with any certainty.   I wonder if he misses Pierre, too?_

 

Leon didn't dare voice the thoughts that sprung from this realization.  The sharp intake of breath heard only in his head was confirmation enough, and Leon almost wished he'd forgotten.  He wasn't sure if Chaltier realized the way Leon had clung to every word, preserving them in his memory like something precious and rare.  As precious and rare as an honest gift from a demon, one might say. 

"...Maybe Woodrow would be willing to-"

Leon faltered into silence at Chaltier's wordless, vehement rejection of the idea.  Leon's fingers brushed an apology over the flat of the blade, and he resumed his work. 

"...That was thoughtless of me," he murmured.  "Chal is Chal, not Pierre."

_**Pierre is dead, and so is the Igtenos he knew.   It might be interesting to meet these other demons, but now is not the time, nor the place, nor the right reason.** _

 

Leon sighed, tilting the blade this way and that, satisfied with its pristine, ebony shine.   He glanced over at Stahn, snoring next to him in the back of the vehicle, and then down to the sword at his hip. 

"Dymlos.  That was another familiar name, yes?"

Somehow, he was able to perceive Chaltier's shrug.   _ **Yes**_. ** _That means nothing. I'm sure your friend's Dymlos is very different from the man I knew._**

The silence settled back in comfortably, save for the odd pluck of a guitar string from the fifth member of Woodrow's squad, who somehow managed to make a lazy sprawl look elegant. 

 

"Hey, Shiden.  Is that... safe?" Leon asked, his skepticism apparent.  He understood the need to keep one's weapon battle-ready while keeping watch, but this made Leon  _nervous_.  Then again, so did driving at night like this, but they needed to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the battleground from earlier. They still had a mission to complete, and it wouldn't do to bring the vampires down onto the heads of the squad that was in hiding. Kongman was driving while Mary, Stahn, and Woodrow slept as best as they were able, given the terrain.  This was how Leon found himself sitting in the darkness with the squad's  _other_ lanky blond. It was the first chance they'd ever spoken in private, but Leon was unimpressed thus far. 

The musician chuckled.  "My wicked little Eleanor is certainly well aware of the difference between calm and combat.  Or are you worried about my enchantments hurting you like the rest of the vampires?"

 

Leon _actually_ had been wondering if it was wise to summon a cursed weapon just to... to..  _noodle around writing songs_ in the middle of the night... or whatever it was that Johnny Shiden seemed to be doing. But Leon kept that to himself, because he was now  _very_ aware that he should probably know the answer to Johnny's question. 

 

"I'm not, but now I'm wondering if I  _should_ be," Leon grumbled. 

 

Johnny shrugged.  "Just don't give me a _reason_ to hurt you, and you'll be fine.  Eleanor's dulcet tones only hurt when and where I  _want_ them to hurt.   Any requests?" 

 

Leon was almost fooled by the musician's easy grin, but it couldn't quite hide the calculating glimmer in his eyes.   Leon was almost ready to dismiss this man as a fool, but he had the oddest feeling that this was precisely what Johnny  _wanted-_ to be overlooked and underestimated.  Leon would keep his eye on the musician. 

He turned away with a huff.  "I don't care. Play whatever you want."

Leon immediately wanted to retract those words, realizing his miscalculation a moment too late.   The man's slender fingers and rich voice had already begun to pointedly weave a soulful melody about a young man who glared haughtily at the world to hide his loneliness.   

 

* * *

 

 

Leon had been right to recognize Woodrow, finally able to put a lineage to the dark skinned face and fair hair.  It seemed odd that the first son and heir of Sark would be here in Japan, but it seemed that Woodrow Kelvin had been visiting when the world ended all those years ago, becoming stranded here as the global human infrastructure immediately crumbled.  The man's formality and leadership skills fell neatly into place, and Leon wondered what he made of their ragtag group. 

 

* * *

 

 

A second ambush never came, though they did have to stop and fight Horsemen twice more. Leon took the opportunity to observe the way this group operated, calculating and figuring out where his skills would fit best.  Woodrow must have noticed, for the next incident found Leon seamlessly worked into the man's tactical approach, as seamlessly as if Woodrow had always commanded a group of six instead of five. 

Their path took them headlong into a small group of vampire scouts, who were equally surprised at the encounter. Still, this one went the same as all such meetings went, and they found themselves under attack once more. 

"Don't let any escape!" Came Woodrow's urgent command.  "The whole mission will be compromised if this gets back to their commander."

Leon also found Chaltier becoming less and less forcefully eager to take every inch of control Leon gave him, and Leon felt less and less of that tightly constrained strength when he reached deeper, finding his demon almost preoccupied with a different desire. 

_**Set me loose, young master.  I want to tear them to pieces.  I won't let them touch you ever again.** _

Leon's eyes widened, his mind suddenly reeling with the knowledge Chaltier fed it, the elation of untried and dangerous power. 

 _ **Call out my name,**_  the demon urged, his voice tight with anticipation. 

Leon drew the steel up before him, his demon's name becoming an elated battle-cry. 

"CHALTIER!" He shouted, and the demon surged forth into the earth like a serpent through water, the ground quaking and rending open like a jagged maw. The other vampire never really stood a chance. 

No, not a serpent, Leon realized.  Chaltier looked something like the dragons Leon remembered seeing on some of the tapestries in Hugo's fortress.  Chaltier's form was all gold-rimmed shadows, so different from the young man Leon was used to seeing.  He began to wonder what his comrades saw, then, when they spoke with their own demons in private.  For private, it was- the face in Leon's mind was a secret, a special privilege, beheld by Leon alone.  But even so, he realized there was something familiar in the playful flicker of the dragon's ember eyes, in the way his draconian maw looked almost like a smug grin.  

Leon reached out as Chaltier returned to him, and the dragon's nose dipped forward to touch his hand for an instant before dissipating.  He could feel Chaltier radiating smug satisfaction.  

Leon tried to ignore the prick of eyes boring into his back after the display.  Irritated, he didn't want to know if it was because they thought he'd been holding out on them, or if it was because they thought his demon acted like this merely because he was a  _vampire_ , and not because Leon had also spent  _years_ working hard to understand and finally befriend Chal. 

He nearly jumped when Stahn came over to put a hand on his shoulder.  

"That was really amazing, Leon!" 

Leon kept waiting for the  _why didn't you do that before_ , but it never came, and Leon immediately felt guilty for even thinking it. Stahn, of all people, would not accuse Leon of failing to try  _hard_ enough.  Stahn was not Kureto or Hugo.  Stahn had spent hours trying to hold Leon together while talking him back from the edge of death. Stahn had helped him save Marian. 

"Hn.  That was all Chal, not me," he finally grunted. "You're thanking the wrong person."  It was embarrassing to have Stahn gushing over him like this. He hadn't expected the boy to actually give a slight bow to the sword at his hip.

"Thank you, Chaltier!  I'm glad you and Leon are with us."

Leon gapes after the boy, and Chaltier gives a low whistle.

**_That boy is a keeper.  You certainly make friends of the most interesting sorts, master Leon._ **

"Don't start letting all this praise go to your head, Chal.  Are you really so easily won with  _flattery?"_

_**Never.** _

 Leon patted the gleaming hilt. "Glad to hear it.  We wouldn't want the other demons to hear you complimenting a  _human_ ," Leon teased, and Chal gave an indignant splutter. 

As the six of them piled back into the armored vehicle, Leon found himself not minding the company so much anymore. 

 

* * *

 

[ [Ring a Bell](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O5NPfCiZ9qE) ]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a short one, this time, but that happens when I let the characters control the pacing, whoopsie! I don't know if EVERY chapter is gonna have a name based on the OnS or Tales soundtracks, but we'll see.


	4. A Place in the Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stahn Aileron never thought the world would end in his lifetime.

Stahn had just turned eleven when the world decided to end.  Or, so he later learned, it was when the people decided to end  _the world_ _._

 

Maybe it was different elsewhere, but for Stahn, the first sign was the ominous echo of angelic trumpets from on high.

Living more out in the countryside, the reality of it didn't strike so immediately.  It was a slowly creeping horror, the kind that starts when the power suddenly cuts out and  _never comes back on again_.  It's the sort you feel when you realize there's smoke on the horizon and you have no idea what's causing it, but you can't shake the feeling that even out here, you should have seen at least  _one_ car by now.   It's when the jetliner crashes into a field a scarce mile away that Stahn realizes that the outside is no longer safe.

It wasn't long before the wind carried its death to his door, either.  Mankind had unwittingly released a virus- one called the Apocalypse Virus, sparing only those under 13.

 

His grandfather was gone, just like his father, and Stahn knew with certainty that keeping himself and his nine year old sister, Lilith, alive had become the most important thing in the  _world_.  A world that was suddenly run by vampires, crawling with monsters sent from on high with no purpose but to kill any human they see.  At least the vampires had a vested interest in humanity's survival.  That didn't mean that Stahn would let himself or his sister become their livestock, and so he was determined to protect her.  Protecting their little sisters were what big brothers were for, right?

Fortunately, they learned, Lilith was no slouch at protecting  _herself_ , either.   While neither of them could hope to stand up to a vampire or a Horseman, they were pretty good at dealing with the thugs and looters who decided to take advantage of the chaos.  For a while, they managed to survive at home. Stahn certainly knew enough about what needed to be done on the farm to keep them both more or less fed for a month or so-   A month in which he taught himself, he hoped, how to hit things like he meant it, fashioning himself a makeshift blade to fight with.  Lilith turned a rake into a makeshift quarterstaff that worked well as a walking stick, though she seemed to have a special gift for improvising a weapon out of anything.  Her favorite, so far, had been the frying pan. 

Still, Stahn knew they needed to avoid the monsters out there at all costs.  Vampires could laugh off bullets and swords easily enough, he remembered that.   

It was all well and good, until a horseman showed up and smashed their home to pieces.  Stahn had never  _seen_ such a horrifying monster.  But he and Lilith were small, fast, and thought well on their feet.  They ran, hid, and eventually the enormous monster got distracted by less elusive prey.  Stahn heard a scream and felt sick.  Lilith had to wrench him back, even though they hadn't even known there was anyone else nearby- they lived because another stranger had died.  Stahn wanted to go charging back in, but he couldn't leave Lilith to fend for herself. 

* * *

 

"We're going to the city, Lilith."

He'd recently seen a military vehicle coming from that direction- one with human soldiers in it.  To keep anything like a military running, there had to be some adults who survived.   He didn't know if anyone was even still trying to live in the little hamlet, but Stahn and Lilith could not stay here any longer.

Lilith's eyes were determined.  "Okay. I'll protect you, big brother."

Stahn found his smile again.  

* * *

 The journey was much shorter than Stahn anticipated-  he had spotted another army vehicle on the road behind them, rapidly approaching.  He ran out into the open, hailing it and waving wildly.  Lilith came to stand beside him, and the vehicle slowed down as it approached. 

The occupants showed no small amount of surprise to find two kids way out here in the ruined suburbs, but the siblings were allowed to hitch a ride.  Anyone who could survive out here for this long showed promise.  

And so, to the city they went.

* * *

* * *

Four years of living in the city could never completely erase all traces of Stahn's rural upbringing, but he was learning.  There was something odd about the high school here, but Stahn had made some friends there, at least.   

Today had been unusually eventful, as Stahn found himself running into a dark haired girl with a quick temper, knocking her bag out of her hands and spilling its contents all over the ground. 

An apology and a store run later, and he'd learned that her name was Rutee Katrea, and that she was a treasure hunter of sorts, someone who made regular excursions out into the ruins to salvage things for profit.  Unlike Stahn, she seemed to have no interest in joining the Japanese Imperial Demon Army- just the thought of wearing a uniform and having to follow orders made her itch, she'd said.  Stahn could respect that, and he'd even felt similar when he'd first started living here.  But Stahn had adjusted, setting clear goals, wanting the power to protect everyone he cared about, and that meant joining the JIDA. 

Fortunately, Stahn had actually managed to pass the entrance exam, his strength and unusual spiritual fortitude putting him on the radar for the elite Moon Demon Company.  He would be joining the trainees starting tomorrow, and he'd been lost in thought on his morning run.   

Stahn offered to help carry Rutee's groceries back for her to make up for running her over, and Rutee accepted with a huff.  All men were still idiots, in her book, but it was nice to see that not  _all_ the ones with a sense of decency had died in the apocalypse.  Stahn just laughed off the backhanded compliment, realizing that Rutee was a young woman who didn't like having to depend on anyone, but perhaps she wasn't quite so prickly as she pretended to be.  

It wasn't a long trip, though it ended with an unexpected surprise, as Rutee's door opened to reveal a tall, imposing woman with a shocking red mane to rival Stahn's own, her eyes searching for Stahn's intentions even as words of gratitude passed her lips.   Stahn merely smiled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, and explained that it was the least he could do after bowling her over.   

The woman's name was Mary Argent, and Stahn wondered if he'd see them again. 

* * *

 

It wasn't long before Stahn had begun to shine among even his peers, a skilled solo fighter who adapted well to a team.  He was no strategist and showed little inclination for planning ahead, but he was good at improvising and adapted quickly to his teammates' strategies.  To his surprise, "again" came quite soon.  Mary was actually a somewhat seasoned soldier in the Moon Demon Company herself, and had quickly taken a liking to Stahn, recognizing his potential and observing some of their class exercises.  Stahn was no squad leader, but he would be a valuable asset on a team.  That is, if he could survive one final test. 

It was time to meet his demon. 

Stahn was the only one of his classmates that Lieutenant Colonel Guren Ichinose deemed ready for a Black Demon tier weapon.  Guren oversaw all the trainees, technically, even if his physical appearances before the class were somewhat rare.  But today, Guren, Mary, and one other accompanied Stahn to oversee the ritual. The last man was tall, dark, and reserved, a stranger to Stahn but clearly somebody familiar to Mary. 

Stahn, knowing the dangers, stepped forward without hesitation to claim a sword.  He stepped into the complex circle to initiate the contract, ready to meet his demon.

* * *

 

 Stahn knew to expect illusions, but it still took him a moment to realize he wasn't  _really_ back at the farm.  It was tempting, sure, to let himself be beckoned back to the warmth and safety of the past.  But Stahn had friends and family to protect, and he could not leave them behind for something so selfish.   As if summoned, his sister appeared before him, taking his hand in her own. 

"You don't have to keep fighting, Stahn! I'm right here.  Won't you come back home?"

But Stahn shook his head, giving her a lopsided smile.  

"Sorry, Lilith.  Or... whoever you really are.  But I can't.  Lilith isn't the only one I want to protect.   There's an entire city of people counting on us.  I can't let any of them down.  I have protect them."

Stahn probably should have expected the demon to twist his earnest oath and turn it into something nightmarish.   Seeing his sister pinned down by vampires, however, he did not hesitate.  Stahn struck, and struck, tireless and determined.   Even as he he began to see himself surrounded by familiar bodies, his veins filled with fire and rage.  None of it was real, he knew, but the sight of it filled him with a new ferocity.   This entity, this  _demon_ was trying to cow him by showing him his worst fears.  Stahn didn't hide, didn't look away, though, because all this bloody illusion had done was give him the best motivation in the  _world_.  

 _This_ was why Stahn fought- to keep this future from  _ever_ happening.  Stahn knew, with sudden certainty, that he must keep these memories close, these terrible gifts from the demon.  The day that Stahn felt his determination waver, the day he dared consider giving up, was when he would need them most, a reminder of everything he stood to lose if he failed. 

"Thank you," Stahn snarled, "for reminding me why I can't _ever_ let you  _win_ _! I will never let this happen! **I won't let them down!  Give me the power I need to**_ _ **protect them ALL!** "_

The demon finally appeared before him, an imposing figure with a wind-blown curtain of azure hair.  He had horns, a stern face, and held a burning sword to mirror Stahn's. Dark flames coursed toward Stahn, but Stahn charged through them, a roar building in his chest to match that of the inferno, pouring his passion into a single, world-shattering blow.   The demon met it, regarding Stahn with new interest. 

The battle was over quickly, Stahn's fury only fueling his strength, unrelenting and blazing like the sun.  Finally, the demon relented, offering Stahn his contract and his name. 

Stahn accepted, and his body blazed with the power of the demon Dymlos. 

* * *

 

Stahn was a bit of an unusual case, but it was apparently no accident that he found himself assigned to Mary's own squad, led by a man named Woodrow Kelvin.  He still wasn't quite sure why everyone seemed just as likely to call him by the nickname "Garr." Apparently, they were short a member, and Stahn's adaptability and prior acquaintance with Mary made this the best fit for him.  He felt like he must stick out a bit when he was was four years the junior of the next youngest.  Though he was surprised that the youngest was actually the leader, Woodrow, whom Stahn now recognized as the quiet guy that had watched Stahn's attempt at contracting the Black Demon. 

Within the week, Stahn was already feeling perfectly at home in their ragtag squad.  Weeks became months, months became years. He saw peers come and go, which hurt even though it was beyond his control.  He was proud to know that everybody in his squad, however, was still safe and whole.   Mary, Woodrow, Johnny, and Kongman were like a second family to him.  To his somewhat panicked delight, his sister Lilith was going to be joining the ranks soon, too, and she had already been accepted into the program. 

For the first time since the apocalypse, Stahn felt like the future seemed bright again. 

* * *

 

Dymlos, Stahn had come to understand, was more like a volcano than an imposing mountain of a man.  He was steadfast and fierce, towering over Stahn and trying to overwhelm him.  He was often harsh, his observations cutting and brutally honest.  He appeared composed, but Stahn soon learned that Dymlos's fuse could be lit, and the demon had a rather impressive temper, when the roiling emotions finally burst forth. 

Somehow, Stahn couldn't help but like him a bit more after learning that he wasn't quite so unflappable or ineffable. 

Dymlos, for his part, developed a grudging respect for Stahn's determination and admirable strength. 

* * *

 

Stahn had hundreds of successful missions under his belt, but that didn't mean missions couldn't still go awry, and when he found himself separated from his squad by the collapse of a building, he realized that it would be good to exercise some caution.   As such, he practically stumbled right into some kind of conflict between the vampires, and, to his shock, witnessed a tiny vampire boy pleading for the life of a hostage- a  _human woman_.  

Stahn felt like the rug, and the entire world with it, had been yanked from beneath his feet.  No vampire he'd ever seen had shown compassion for a human.  He waited, and the other vampires left, leaving only the little one shaking in the dust.   Stahn's feet were moving before he realized it, and once his head caught up with his heart, he realized there was really only one thing to do- 

Not the easy thing, but the  _right_ thing.

This vampire- this  _person_ didn't like seeing that woman hurt any more than Stahn did, and that was all the reason he needed to offer his assistance.

When the sullen vampire boy actually  _agreed_ , Stahn felt his heart leap.  Everything, from that moment onward, would serve to exceed Stahn's wildest expectations. Here was an ally in the most unthinkable of places, and that changed  _everything_. 

* * *

 

Stahn knew he would be branded a traitor for doing anything but slaying this boy on sight, if he was ever found out.  Stahn didn't care.  His report had been truthful, even if he'd left out the bit about Leon.  He'd seen the vampires passing by with a human hostage in tow, and he'd assessed the situation as one he could handle.  He tailed them for a while, waited until they got into closer quarters, intercepting them before they could rejoin their allies.  All of the enemy had been slain, so there were no witnesses.  He returned to his squad with the woman he'd rescued, and that was all there was to it.  

Kureto looked bored at the proceedings, but Shinya had been most intrigued.   The woman, Marian Fustel, had been kept captive on the orders of a Progenitor, they learned, and she was able to provide them with valuable, detailed information about the fortress and the vampires within it.  

Stahn accompanied the woman to the hospital building, introducing her into the expert care of yet another of his friends.

* * *

 

Philia Felice was the same age as Stahn, young, but with years of experience already as the number of patients still outnumbered the doctors in the aftermath of the apocalypse. Philia was only assisting on the side as her true work was elsewhere in the military, but she was well liked and remembered by many past patients regardless.  She was a kind girl, insightful and open, thoughtful, sweet, and much stronger than she looked.  She was gentle but firm, and Stahn often got to see it first hand whenever she was faced with the lovestruck affections of his squadmate, the man known only as Kongman.  He'd fallen head over heels for her the first time he'd ended up in her care, and Stahn had to admire her professionalism in dealing with him.  

Needless to say, Marian was in good, capable hands, and he knew Leon would have been relieved to hear it.  

* * *

 

 

Stahn hadn't really been expecting to see Leon again so soon, in a briefing room as plain as day.  Still, Stahn realized that he probably wouldn't have given the shorter boy a second glance had he not already known Leon's secret.   

"Eh? Leon? What are you doing here?"   

Stahn looked over the vampire's borrowed uniform, and the way the boy wore it with such familiarity.   Had Leon been in the demon army?  That sword at his side was a cursed weapon, not a vampire blade, Stahn realized.  That... That brought up some unsettling questions.  He knew that a contracted weapon could not be stolen or taken by force.  Meaning, Leon had come by his weapon the same way everyone else obtained a cursed weapon:  the JIDA.  Their military, as far as he knew, was the ONLY entity in possession of the cursed gear technology. Not even the vampires seemed to know anything about it. 

Leon rolled his eyes, jerking his head slightly towards the silver haired Major General, who caught Stahn's look and responded with a smile and a little shrug. 

The briefing didn't take long.  

Apparently, there was a rogue squad out in hiding, a squad led by one Shinoa Hiiragi.  

Stahn suddenly understood why Shinya was willing to risk so much, including being charged with treason, to make contact with this lone squad. 

She was Shinya's family.  Of course he was worried.  The last he'd seen these kids, they were on the run from human and vampire alike, and they had been under his command.  Not only did he feel responsible for their safety, but this squad included Shinoa and  _her_ closest friends.   

Stahn's eyes locked with Woodrow's, then swept to each member of his squad.  The decision was unanimous. Of course they would accept. 

"...I have a little sister, sir.  She's also part of this army.   We'll find Shinoa's squad for sure!"  Stahn wasn't the leader, but he felt his squadmates' approval nonetheless.

The mission was recon, not retrieval, but Stahn understood.   The members of Shinoa's squad would probably apprehended if they returned, but they might have some valuable intel that Shinya could use, and Shinya had a message for Shinoa.   Shinya laid out more particulars.  Stahn wondered why it wasn't Guren delivering the orders, but something in Shinya's eyes made that particular question die on his tongue.   Their squad hadn't been in Nagoya, and the more Stahn heard the name of that particular battle, the more ominous it sounded to him.  

Maybe he could ask later.  It seemed rare to encounter anyone who had actually  _been_ there, and Stahn was dreading that he knew exactly the reason why. 

But he set those thoughts aside, focusing on the new task at hand. 

To his delight, Leon would be coming with them.   They would set out immediately, and Stahn had trouble containing his excitement. 

This was going to be an  _adventure._

 

* * *

 

[ [A Place in the Sun](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eH98ksmVkIU) ]

 


	5. Between One and Zero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one he does not remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This chapter is presented entirely in comic form after the opening sentences!!! All drawings by yours truly. Takes place during the drama near the end of the first chapter's arc.)

 

* * *

 

Darkness, familiar in its comfort.

 

_Where am I?_

 

The last thing Leon remembers is a vampire blade ripping through his body like he was made of paper, unable to breathe as his chest fills with burning agony.  

Stahn, watching in horror, and then darkness engulfs his every thought.

His spirit walks freely in the twilight between life and death. 

.

.

.

 

 

 

 

* * *

_._

.

.

**.**

 

 

 

* * *

 

 [ [In Between 1 and 0](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i0H_odveUhw) ]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We return to a familiar place, from chapter one. Leon's transformation and brush with death mostly obscures the memory of this one conversation, which transpired not within his mind, but within his heart or soul. In such a state, he has difficulty hiding his feelings, the subconscious self speaking freely in a way the conscious self does not. Leon is emotional and outspoken here, in a way he never allows himself to act in the waking world. But these feelings still burn behind a carefully maintained mask of indifference. 
> 
> Leon is afraid to let himself care. Caring invites pain. Even if Leon's heart is closed to entry, he cannot stop Stahn from inviting himself in.


	6. Put the Feelings into the Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stahn will find a way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (The second half of Stahn's version of events leading up to the present)

For all of Leon's reticence, Stahn never let it deter him.  Their group of six, having already been alerted to an upcoming mission, departed immediately.   Mary and Khang (the nickname was beginning to stick) were generally the ones driving, while Stahn, Woodrow, and Johnny stayed in the back of the truck- their demons were more suited for fending off surprises and distant attackers.  Leon didn't like the idea of being shoved into an enclosed space with two strangers, so he opted to stay in the slightly  _less_ enclosed space with at least  _one_ familiar face.  This arrangement was quickly decided, and the beginning of their journey went surprisingly smoothly.  The orders Shinya had delivered were quite clear- they were not to engage any vampires unless absolutely necessary, and even Stahn could see the logic in that.  They were trying to find a squad that was in hiding.  Bringing a horde of vampires down upon themselves would be bad for both parties. 

 

From the very start, this gave Stahn plenty of opportunities to observe the newest addition to his team, into his close circle of friends.  

 

Where most people Stahn met in this day and age were either openly friendly, scathingly bitter, jaded, or deeply mistrustful, Leon was not quite any of these things.   Okay, well, definitely not the first one.  Leon was anything _but_ friendly, or open. There was an edge to the vampire boy, a wariness.  No, Leon did not trust anyone, as far as Stahn could tell, but it wasn't out of jaded skepticism or simple disbelief.  It was almost as if Leon was  _afraid_. 

Stahn couldn't so much as shift around without drawing an almost affronted glance from the other boy.  That look wasn't annoyed at the sound- it seemed to say  _must you do that again?_ As though Stahn were forcing the boy to look his way with every unexpected break of the silence.  Did Leon expect to get stabbed in the back?

Speaking of Leon's back, Stahn rarely saw it.  Maybe he hadn't noticed before, or Leon hadn't been doing it then, but the boy always seemed to find a wall or corner to put behind him, leaning casually to make it look coincidental.   

 

Stahn might not be the best at putting together the right words to say what he means, but he  _is_ pretty good at reading people, and considers himself a good judge of character, most of the time.  Some people are an open book- Mary and Kongman wear their hearts on their sleeves.  Woodrow is more subdued, but his actions still express themselves honestly.   Johnny is a more difficult read.  The musician seemed open enough, but Stahn would occasionally catch the odd look from him, a hint of darker depths behind moss green eyes, eyes that were always sharp and considering, even if his tongue and manner were loose.  

But... 

Leon was perhaps the first person Stahn had met who seemed to even be hiding things from  _himself_ , to say nothing of the people around him.  Stahn couldn't help but feel that something, or several somethings, were bothering the shorter boy. Stahn wasn't sure if even _Leon_ would know what they all were if he was asked.  That was a question that Stahn would not ask.  He had plenty of others.

 

"Hey... Leon?"

 

Stahn was rewarded with those indigo eyes flicking in his direction.

 

"You have a demon weapon," Stahn started, prompting Leon to roll his eyes at the statement of the obvious.  "Only the Imperial Demon Army knows how to bind a demon into a contract, right?"

 

Leon shrugged.  Hugo had a black demon sword, so clearly the information wasn't kept entirely airtight. 

 

"... _You_ were in the demon army, then, right? You were human. Recently."  Stahn felt a bit sick.  Had there been others he'd killed that might have once been his allies?

Leon seemed to sense this train of thought because he finally felt compelled to answer with something besides eloquent eye motions.

"Yes.  But I'm... a very unusual case.  Vampires hate the idea of increasing their ranks by giving a human the  _gift_ of being a vampire," and Leon nearly spat the word, "particularly when only Progenitors are able or allowed to do it."

 

That just raised more questions.  So the vampires had made an exception for Leon?  Why turn him when they killed or captured every other human they came across?

 

Stahn couldn't stop the downturn of his lips as another uncomfortable thought wriggled to the surface. 

 

"You weren't given a choice, were you?"

 

The indigo eyes released him from their hold, suddenly shying away from contact. 

 

"...No."

 

Stahn bit his lip.  Maybe it was a bit forward, but he had to ask. 

 

"...Why did you work for them? Was it just because of... ah, Marian?"

 

Leon drew in on himself.  "Partly.  There are other reasons.  I didn't have a choice about that, either."  He didn't elaborate, and the sudden curtness of his tone discouraged further questioning. 

 

The thrum of a guitar chord made Leon flinch, his head jerking up to glower at the lanky, blond cause of the sound.  

 

"Well, you're stuck with us, now.  I daresay we'll probably be better company.  You look like you could use the chance to unwind a bit," the musician murmured, his lazy sprawl at odds with the alert spark of interest in his eyes. 

"That remains to be seen," Leon scoffed, with a hint of an edge in his tone. "I'll not have you telling me how to take care of myself.  I've managed well enough for more than two years." Leon's grip tightened on Chaltier's sheath, and Stahn could have sworn he saw a brief flicker come from the odd looking core on the blade.  Leon's eyes flitted briefly down to it, an expression flickering across his face too quickly for Stahn to interpret.  

Almost like..... It was almost like watching half of a conversation from across the room. 

 

Was the demon talking to Leon?

 

Woodrow, seated furthest back, watched the exchange in silence. 

 

* * *

 

 

It wasn't long before Leon had the opportunity to see Stahn's allies in action.  Running into a stray Horseman was almost inevitable if one was traveling any kind of distance out of the city.  Leon didn't like suddenly not knowing where Woodrow had gone, but he had his answer soon enough.

The man was perched atop a low building, a gleaming black bow in his hand.  The man shouted a name that became lost to the breeze, and a terrible crack of thunder and ringing hoofbeats was all the warning the Horseman got. 

The demon they would later know as Igtenos charged forth with the swiftness of an arrow, the demon manifesting as a massive, black steed, all thunder and vicious, howling wind.

He almost missed the confused, wordless murmur of Chaltier in his mind.  Something about these demons felt familiar- that was as much as Leon could gather. 

 

The battle was nearly over before it began, and Leon felt the familiar tension of Chaltier's hold tightening around him, keeping his eyes riveted on the bow, as though he could unearth its secrets if he only looked hard enough.  But Leon forced their eyes away, not wanting to give the others reason to think him suspicious.  He held no designs over any of them.   But... he knew they would probably be unhappy to know the extent to which he allowed Chaltier to possess him at all times.    Chal didn't often fight him without warning, over something like this, but that was no excuse for Leon to let his guard down. 

His hand tightened around the smooth metal of Chaltier's hilt.   "Now's not the time."

And indeed it wasn't, as a second massive monster charged at them from the other side, ignoring Leon utterly. 

Well, there were some advantages to being a vampire, he supposed. 

It seemed to be headed right for Stahn, but Stahn drew his own cursed blade in response.  Its edge seemed to sear his eyes with a fell light, blazing with all the ferocity and scorn of a desert sun, blasting light without discrimination.   It made Leon want to curl away and shield his eyes, but even that light paled in comparison as the sword burst into literal flames.  What seemed like inky black smoke was actually yet another manifestation, as Stahn's demon took shape.   Leon caught the brief impression of fangs and wildness, a snarl that echoed with the roar of flames.   A wolf?

 

 

Leon  _did_ recoil from the heat now rolling off of the pair.  To his surprise, the wolf seemed to turn on Stahn with a savage growl, its form engulfing his.  Leon stepped forward, startled and uncertain, but he had little reason to worry.   From the inferno, Stahn strode out calmly, clad in armor that burned with hell fire, the color of coal and embers. 

 

 

 

With Leon's ears, Chaltier actually heard the name that had torn itself from Stahn's throat.

 

 _**Dymlos. Master Leon, do you believe in** _ **d** **estiny** _**?** _

 

Leon scoffed.  "You shouldn't let yourself be this distracted," he scolded. "...If there is such a thing as fate, it has the worst sense of humor."

 

_**Yes.  Yes, agreed.  Because I know that name.  I know it very well.  And he will know mine.** _

 

Leon raised an eyebrow.  "Do demons socialize?"

 

The peal of Chaltier's laughter was rather condescending as it rang within Leon's head. 

 

_**Of course not.  But we had lives before becoming demons.  You'll be glad you left that army when you did.  Who knows what you might have become if you'd stayed.** _

 

The demon's tone held the ominous air of a warning.  Leon was only half watching as Mary and Kongman flanked the Horseman, distracting it so that Stahn could go in for the kill.  It seemed to be moving sluggishly, as though the air around the monster had turned to molasses.   A glance to his left revealed the reason-

 

 

Apparently, the musician's weapon was not as useless as it appeared.  The expert touch of Johnny's hand wrought an electric wail from the instrument that made the behemoth _tremble._ It would take a powerful enchantment to bind something as massive as a horseman, and Leon couldn't help but shiver as he recalled the casual way the man would strum the cursed instrument while they traveled, his favorite method for passing the time.  

Leon would have to consider this man with even more care. Still, he couldn't help but be impressed by the power of this small unit.  

 

* * *

 

 

As everyone took their usual places in the vehicle, Stahn couldn't help but notice that some of the disdain was missing from Leon's tone whenever he replied to queries from Stahn's friends.  Perhaps Leon had a bit of respect for them after seeing them work as a unit?   Leon seemed distracted by something, though, his gaze often drifting out of focus as though listening to something they could not hear.  

Leon tried to hide it, but his hand was almost always in contact with the demon sword.   Stahn passed the time trying to decipher this other language- the quickly masked facial  expressions, the movements.  Stahn rather thought that Leon seemed to have an entire vocabulary comprised solely of the motions of his left hand- the way his fingers would twitch, or tighten, or brush idly, or tap in agitation against the hilt in response to the other half of this conversation.  Leon probably wasn't used to being around people who might notice, for all that he kept silent. 

Feeling a bit left out, Stahn put a curious hand to Dymlos's hilt, but he received no response.   Dymlos was quiet within the blade.  

 

Stahn looked back to Leon, surprised to find sharp eyes meeting his own.  Stahn couldn't quite shake the feeling that it wasn't just Leon looking out at him from those eyes, but a flicker of something more.  There was little doubt what that presence could be, and yet Leon had never tried to kill any of them.  Stahn would trust that Leon knew what he was doing. 

Stahn met the odd look levelly, mouth quirking into a smile. 

 

"What's his name?"  Stahn was genuinely curious. 

 

Leon blinked, and Stahn glanced down at the sword in the other boy's hand.  "Your demon.  What's his name?"

 

Stahn figured he might as well ask, so that he could put a name to that other entity that he swore was again flickering behind deep indigo, judging him.  Leon was silent for a moment, debating whether to answer at all.  

 

Stahn belatedly realized he might have been mistaken.  "Or... did I have it wrong? Should I say 'her'?"   

 

Clearly, that was not the question Leon had been expecting, because Stahn managed to startle an incredulous snicker from the smaller boy. 

 

"...His name is Chaltier," Leon finally replied.  Stahn grinned. 

 

"Welcome to the Woodrow Squad, both of you."

 

Leon tilted his head at that. 

 

"...On that note. Why does everyone call him Garr?"

 

Stahn laughed.

 

"I've been told 'it's a long story.'"

 

* * *

 

 Stahn should have known that the peace could not last, not for three days in a row.  Nobody had luck like that anymore.  The ambush was unexpected, and they found themselves surrounded by vampires.  Johnny was the most skilled at waylaying a large group at once, but there was at least one noble among them, and that spelled trouble for all of them.  

The fight became a blur around him, as Dymlos's fire filled his veins to match the surge of determination and adrenaline.  Stahn would do what he always did- protect his friends.  

 

Stahn hadn't quite accounted for the incredible speed of the one noble, nor of the equally fast reflexes of his newest ally.   Time came screeching to a halt, and all Stahn could see was the crimson blade that had suddenly sprung from Leon's chest like a grotesque flower, accompanied by a bloom of crimson that painted the cracked asphalt beneath their feet.  The noble seemed surprised, pausing long enough for Woodrow to take careful aim.  

Stahn jerked himself out of shock, but not soon enough.   With malicious glee, the vampire tore Leon open, ripping the sword in an arc up and out and leaving a gaping fissure where Leon's right shoulder should have been.  

 

Stahn saw red.  He was faintly aware of a scream, a roar building inside that tore itself loose from him with the rest of the inferno.  Even as Woodrow's arrows found their mark, Stahn took the head off of the noble, who crumpled into a cloud of ash like the rest.  

 

Stahn whirled back around, dropping to his knees beside Leon.  There was so, so much blood. Too much blood.  Other things he didn't want to look at too closely. He remembered the crack of shattering bone, and that was bad enough.   But the worst of it was that  _Leon was not healing_.  The boy seemed to be going into shock. Stahn wanted to bind the wound, but he wasn't even sure  _how_. It was too big, too much, nothing a tourniquet would help with.   He didn't like the wet rattle that accompanied each of Leon's breaths, the way the blood was so freely welling up from between paper white lips.  Vampires could reattach limbs, but could they regrow missing pieces altogether?  

Desperate, Stahn ran back to the vehicle to pull out a spare sheet and bound the wound as best as he could, with Woodrow and Kongman helping.  Mary started up the engine; they needed to get out of the open, because this scene would be a hugely incriminating red flag for the next vampire that stumbled across it.  

 

Stahn laid Leon out in the back of the vehicle, Woodrow and Johnny keeping watchful eyes on their surroundings.  He didn't like the pitying look he caught Johnny giving the both of them.  He didn't want to hear any prognosis.  Stahn kept his eyes fixed on Leon's face, murmuring reassuring nonsense and trying to hold the other boy's attention, hopefully at least long enough for his demon to patch him up enough to survive this.  

"Hey, c'mon.  Leon, stay with me."

Leon just gave him a glassy eyed look, more blood bubbling up with each shallow breath.  Stahn wasn't even sure  _how_ Leon was still breathing, given what the sword had done to his chest.  Whatever was left of Leon's right lung couldn't have been in any capacity to be functioning right now.  

Leon's lips trembled, half forming a word, a question, but Stahn couldn't read them.  He felt a sick spike of fear sink deep into his spine, realizing that there was almost zero chance of Leon's survival.   

It hadn't even been five minutes, and Leon's eyes had already slid shut, his breathing beginning to slow. Nothing Stahn did this time would wake him, and he realized he might have missed his only chance to say anything that Leon might actually hear.  

He bit his lip, hard enough to hurt, fighting the burn of tears as he tried to put pressure on the wound and staunch the flow. 

His gloves, like the cloth binding, soaked through almost immediately. 

 

Shaking, he turned to his leader.

"W.... Woodrow, Leon's not w-waking up anymore!  What.... what do I do??"  Stahn had never felt so helpless. 

 

Woodrow was at a loss.

"I'm sorry, Stahn. We've... We've never had to  _save_ a vampire before. I don't know what else would work. They've always just regenerated. Why isn't  _he_ healing?"

 

Stahn would have voiced his frustration, but he could hear the pain in Woodrow's voice.  

 

Johnny began singing softly, his hands picking out a subdued melody.  Stahn was startled to feel a tiny amount of warmth seep into the body beneath his hands.   He recognized this enchantment- it was one that restored energy to a person, revitalizing them with a third, fourth, and fifth wind.   Leon's body had to be exhausting itself just to keep working.  Johnny was trying to give Leon a fighting chance. 

 

After what felt like hours but had probably been only minutes, Leon stirred beneath Stahn's hand.  What's more, Leon actually  _spoke_ , startling Stahn.  Leon certainly didn't look in any better shape than before.  He wanted to feel hopeful, but something still wasn't right. 

“Is everyone else okay?”

God, the rasp of Leon's voice was painful.  Leon was so strong, but he seemed so fragile, now.  Stahn forced a smile, when he realized that Leon was waiting expectantly for an answer.

“Yeah.  Yeah, we’re all fine.  You should worry about yourself for a change.”

That drew a rattling, breathless chuckle from Leon, a sound that quickly degenerated into a hiss of agony.  Stahn tried not to think about the fresh wave of red seeping up between his fingers, of the six inch  _rift_ through which Stahn had briefly seen daylight where solid flesh and blood should have been. 

He didn't know if Leon's demon could hear him, but his knee was just barely touching the scabbard, so Stahn thought as hard and forcefully as he could-

_Don't you dare let him die without giving it one hell of a fight, Chaltier_

Stahn could see Leon trying to compose himself, and it hurt.  Leon didn't have to pretend he wasn't scared.  Stahn tried to be a warm, comforting presence, but he didn't want to just surrender, either. 

Leon didn't share his optimism.

 

“Stahn…  Stahn, stop,” he rasped. “E….enough.  I’m d-dying and we both know it.”

 

“Shut up,” Stahn retorted, surprised at how calm his tone sounded when he was panicking inside. “You’re gonna be fine! Just hang on a b-”

 

“I can’t,” Leon choked. “I _can’t,”_ and Stahn wanted to hold him or shake him or maybe a bit of both.  Leon didn't deserve this.  “Please, just- _stop_.”  

Stop what? Stop caring? Stop trying?  Impossible. That was the one thing Stahn could not do. 

Stahn could  _hear_ how Leon was drowning in his own blood. “Why the hell do you _care_  so much!?”  Leon's eyes were bright, gleaming wetly in the approaching twilight. “Just… give up on me and think of y-”

_Give up on me. Save yourself._

Stahn felt a surge of fear and grief and helplessness all at once, as Leon asked him to do the one thing Stahn would  _never_ do.  He'd sworn to himself to  _protect_ his friends. 

He couldn't stop the emotions from pouring out, determination finally emerging the victor.

“Don’t you EVER tell me to give up on my friends!!”

That shocked Leon into a brief silence.

“Is your _brain_  broken!?” Leon finally responded in a hoarse, incredulous whisper. “’ _ **Friend**_ ’?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Stahn couldn't quite hold back the hoarse edge of tears in his voice.  

 

“I’m a _vampire_ ,” Leon felt the need to point out, his confusion apparent. 

“ _Yes_ ,” Stahn repeated.  “So??”

 

 Leon looked lost, baffled by Stahn's easy acceptance of that fact. 

 

“I,” Leon finally choked.  “As… as long as we’re… c-clear on that…. I guess?”

 

Stahn beamed at him, even if it was killing him to realize that Leon hadn't known, this whole time, that Stahn thought of him as a friend. 

 

The minutes ticked away in silence.  Whatever Leon had been meaning to say before seemed lost, as the boy concentrated on simply holding on as long as he could, waiting for a miracle.  

 

* * *

 

By the time Leon had asked him about Chaltier, by the time Stahn had finally given in and pulled the tiny vampire boy into his arms, he knew he was out of time.  He could feel each rattling breath come slower than the last, as Leon drifted back out of consciousness.   Stahn could feel the stutter of his heartbeat becoming slow and more irregular.

Stahn didn't bother trying to wipe away the tears that ran freely down his cheeks now, was barely aware that Woodrow and Johnny had moved closer, sitting on either side of Stahn, heedless of the blood.    Stahn didn't register Johnny laying down his guitar in defeat, as his entire world had drawn in to center around the rise and fall of Leon's chest.  

"Why...?" Stahn whispered.   "As long as I've known him, he's never done anything wrong.  I've never even seen him drink _blood_. He's not a monster.  But everyone out there would call him one.  Even Leon himself. It's all so stupid!"   He was shouting, now, he knew, but the only ones around to hear him were his friends and the sky, the sky which probably heard countless such outcries every day.  

 

Johnny put a hand on Stahn's shoulder.  "I know.   I know, Stahn.   Honestly, even knowing him only a few days... he changed the way I think about vampires.  And... I never saw him drink anything either.  Maybe he thought we'd be offended.... I guess he was a considerate guy, even when he pretended otherwise," Johnny murmured. 

 

Stahn frowned at that, trying to imagine going four days without eating.  

 

"...Hey, do you think maybe that's why he isn't healing?? Because he's been starving himself to be polite??  I know I feel drained if I have to skip a meal," Stahn mused, glancing down at Dymlos. 

 

Woodrow blinked.   "It's worth a try.  Here, let me-"

 

Stahn beat him to the punch, dragging his palm across the edge of Dymlos's blade.   "Just hold his mouth open for me!"

 

* * *

 

Stahn would always consider that moment to be the best decision of his life, even if Leon wasn't inclined to agree, calling him an idiot among other things once he had the breath to do so. 

 

And.... maybe it was inappropriate, but he let his hand brush just briefly against Leon's cursed blade.   

 

_If you can hear me, thank you._

 

Leon cracked one crimson eye open, the catlike pupil regarding Stahn with some amusement.  

 

"I didn't do it for _you_ , you know."  The voice was Leon's but the tone was distinctly  _un_ Leon-like. 

 

Stahn let out a breathless little laugh.

 

"I know.  I'm still grateful, though.   _Thank you_." 

[ [Put the Feelings Into the Sky](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=askrm3Io4Mg) ]


	7. Rest of the Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night is dark, but guiding lights shine all the brighter for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This is a fairly long chapter, sorry. This takes place the SECOND day after the end of the first chapter, and therefore happens AFTER all of the previous chapters)

Leon hadn't really taken the time, yet, to contemplate this latest and unexpected turn his existence had taken, thanks to Stahn.  He'd fallen into unconsciousness as his exhausted body finally began to repair itself, only to wake in the middle of the night to find Stahn asleep.  The next day had been too eventful, and he'd been distracted thinking about the recent developments of his demon partner. 

This day, Leon again woke well before dawn, knowing from experience now that attempting to rouse Stahn was futile unless he intended to make enough noise to wake their entire group.  They had holed up for the night in one of the most intact of the abandoned homes in the area.  Japan had become a very different world from the one his older companions remembered.  All but the largest of roads had slowly fallen into disrepair, the disuse and debris creating an unfamiliar network of paths as old and familiar routes became impassible, and new ones needed to be forged. He couldn't imagine how the rest of the world might be faring, in places that had been less industrial.  Nature fought fiercely to reclaim the developed land, even here in the heart of a modern society, forests of glass and steel and concrete slowly crumbling without people to maintain them.  Beyond the walls of the city, the world seemed to have been hurled back a century or more into primitive conditions. 

Last night, he'd watched the others make a great deal of setting up a small fire to heat rations, taking turns to bathe after the discovery of a good water source, carrying back buckets and towels and scavenged soap.  The fire was made in an old shed, as they feared the attention that smoke might draw. It had been years since this area had seen inhabitants, years since the initial chaos of the Apocalypse virus had died down.   There were entire neighborhoods he'd seen gutted by fires allowed to run rampant, but those had all burned themselves out long ago. 

 

He'd mostly kept to himself that evening, still coping with the changes in both himself and in the demon he had slowly come to regard as his other half.  Leon had been serious when he'd told Stahn that they needed to talk, but yesterday had been too soon.  Now, Leon had a few hours to contemplate his situation before he'd feel the need to confront Stahn about his actions.   Mary was the only other one awake, as it was her turn to stand watch.  Leon had not yet been asked to take a watch shift, probably out of consideration for the recent trauma more than any distrust, he realized.  This group was sickeningly accepting of him.  He'd initially thought them naive, guileless, but that was not quite right.  They weren't sloppy.  Mary had an ear turned in his direction well before he came out onto the balcony to join her.  Mistrust or simple caution, but he saw now that this was an experienced team that worked with the efficiency of a well oiled machine.  

 

"Can't sleep?"  Mary murmured, shifting slightly.  Something about her intent gaze and readiness to spring to action, in Leon's eyes, likened her to some kind of big jungle cat patiently lying in wait for an opportunity.  While nobody in this squad seemed averse to combat - which was to be expected, as all of them had joined the JIDA voluntarily, of course - Mary Argent in particular seemed to thrive on the battlefield.   Where Stahn became energized and Woodrow and Johnny became alert with an inner fire as they put their skill and talent to use.... where Khang seemed to find a thrill in the adrenaline and showmanship of fighting powerful monsters,  Mary seemed to almost become another person.  Outside of battle, she seemed amiable enough and not particularly violent, but from the moment the first blade was drawn until the last vampire burned to ash, it was as though she was possessed by the tireless spirit of an enraged, vengeful warrior who did not stop until every enemy had been obliterated.   _A berserker_ , his imaginative side mused, like a fantasy or folktale. 

 

"No," Leon murmured in kind.  Even Chaltier seemed to be asleep, a silent murmur of the barest presence at the back of his mind.   His own sleep had been dreamless, genuine slumber and something he hadn't experienced or needed in a long time.  So many of his nights in the past had been spent talking to his demon; Leon felt a bit lonely and exposed, a sailor adrift under a black, overcast sky with no guiding stars.  Chaltier, in a way, had become his compass.   Chaltier had become one of his greatest motivations, an answer to seek, not just within himself, but in the world without once he decided that he also sought a solution to their dilemma where there might be none.   Leon had all the time in the world, now, to seek his answers.  Stahn had seen to that. 

 

Though, it wasn't as though becoming an ageless being made the time go by any faster than before.   He felt a prickle on the back of his neck, and half turned to see Mary watching him intently.  He scowled, raising a questioning brow in response.  Was there something on his face?  To her credit, Mary at least didn't pretend she  _hadn't_ been staring once she'd been caught.  Leon might find it annoying at times, but at least being surrounded by people as straightforward as Mary, Stahn, and Khang meant he didn't need to spend hours dissecting every word and motion to determine the motive behind them.   These weren't scheming vampires but honest people.  

 

"Sorry," she replied, turning her eyes back to the streets below.   "I was just curious about your ears.  They weren't always long, were they?  I feel like I'm a pretty terrible teammate if it took me until now to notice something like _that_."

At this, Leon raised a trembling hand up to his jaw, hovering just shy of the part in question.  He... he hadn't even thought about this, hadn't so much as looked in a mirror in weeks, probably.   He knew his irises would be red, now, but... every other vampire he'd ever met had possessed red eyes, yes, and ears that came to a delicate point instead of the smoothly curved shell of a human's. 

There was no use in denying this, and he drew a wondering fingertip from the lobe of one ear, up and... not around, but back, and back, feeling a bit queasy at the sensation of his own unfamiliar anatomy, a body that wasn't quite the same shape as the one he was used to and didn't feel or perceive or react to things the way he expected it to.  

"I..."  He swallowed around the dry tightness in his throat.  "No, this is... new," Leon managed, schooling his face into an emotionless mask.  It was habit, now.  It was dangerous to leave his emotions out in plain sight where anyone - _Hugo_ \- could see and take advantage of them.  He wasn't going to let anyone see how shaken he felt right now, even if 'anyone' was just Mary at the moment. 

"Huh.  Well, that makes sense," Mary mused.  "It would've been a lot harder to sneak you out in plain sight when we were in the city if you'd had ears like that before.  If we have to do it again... I wonder if there are any earmuffs or headphones lying around?  Or maybe a hoodie?"  Leon watched in mild bewilderment as she continued to follow this train of thought.  This was.... not quite the reaction he would expect from someone who was discovering just how monstrous and inhuman he had become.

"And your eyes.  Sad to say, but anyone in the military for sure would peg you as a vampire from miles away, now.  Maybe sunglasses? Or contacts? Hmm..."

Leon turned back to the skyline, letting her ramble.  He honestly felt no urge to go back into the human city.  The only reason he'd want to enter... would be to check on...  

 _Oh_.

"Mary," he interrupted, cutting her off.  "I understand you'd been staying with... Rutee Katrea, correct?  My... older sister," he clarified, the words sounding unfamiliar to him, with that shaken, unsteady feeling returning as he heard himself ask this stranger - _not a stranger anymore_ \- about his own family, about a goal he'd kept private for  _years_ lest Hugo find out, find her first, and turn her into another weapon for controlling - _hurting_ \- him.  He felt a creeping horror at his own recklessness, but he had to know.  There was no way he'd be able to safely wander the city seeking her  _now_ , not when he finally looked the part of the monster he'd become. 

Mary nodded, waiting expectantly. 

"Tell me about her," he mumbled, and Mary must have sensed his precarious mood despite his facade, because she let the rudeness of his interruption and subsequent demand slide without comment.  Something in her expression seemed to soften. 

Mary told him.

He had been so young when they'd been separated, and his recollection of those events was jumbled at best.   He almost felt like he'd rather Rutee not  _know_  what had become of him, now, but he felt that might be beyond his control at this point.  All he remembered was his sister suddenly running out into the open to create a diversion, drawing the monsters away so that he could wait until it was safe and quiet to flee towards the city.  She'd said she'd meet him in Shibuya, but she had never come.  He was glad to know she'd made it out alive after all.  The fact that they'd managed to stay together and survive that long together in the first place was incredibly fortunate, but it hadn't lasted.  Leon briefly wondered how different things might have been if he hadn't known his sister, if he'd been alone to fend for himself in a hostile world from the beginning. 

So now, to hear Mary talk about her, Leon could finally attempt to fill in those missing years, the crumbling image of his sister, with newer, brighter pieces.  Shadows in his memory blazed into a riot of color as Mary painted the picture with her words, and Leon felt something in his chest tighten as he realized how much of her life he had missed.

It seemed like Rutee had become a firecracker of a young woman, as sharp tongued as she was sharp-witted, having been taken in by one of the few orphanages still operating in the present day.   _Dunamis_.  Leon would be sure to remember that name.  He shook his head as Mary told him of some of the more memorable escapades.  It sounded like Mary was a better family and friend to Rutee than Leon would be, if he tried to come back into her life now.  It was good to hear that she was thriving.  Though chance had brought the two women together, they had forged a strong friendship, and Mary spoke with the fond exasperation, at times, that only an old, longtime friend would possess. 

 

"She looked for you, you know.  She was very stubborn, and certain that you were still alive."

  

Leon felt a pang of guilt.  "I looked, too, but after... certain events, I _couldn't_ go back home."  He reached up absently to touch the tip of his ear again, part of him still not quite believing it was there, like he needed to remind himself of the change.  "Now more than ever."

 

Mary shrugged.  "If you're determined to meet her, I'm sure we'll find a way."  Leon folded his arms almost protectively across his chest, trying to project more calmness and self-assuredness than he felt. 

 

"Knowing that she's alive and happy is enough," he replied, trying to put as much finality into his tone as possible. Mary didn't look very convinced.

 

"...Well, maybe  _you_ would be satisfied with just that much, but I doubt  _she_ would feel the same.  You should meet her.  Otherwise, it's just a matter of time before she comes  _looking_ for you."

Leon scowled, bristling at the way Mary seemed inclined to pressure him into this. 

 

"Then _she doesn't have to know,_ " he hissed.  "Her brother Emilio Katrea died several  _years_ ago.  I'm _not him anymore_.  I'm Leon Magnus, the monster living inside her brother's shell and wearing his face.  How would knowing that make her _happy_?"

 

Mary was regarding him with the most unsettling expression, one that seemed to pin him to the wall at his back.  "Because I know _exactly_ how she feels," Mary replied with a strangely calm intensity, "and I know that having your loved ones alive and well and  _there_ where you can see and touch them and support them is all that matters.   _You_ may see yourself as a monster, but _she's_ going to see the brother she lost, no matter what shape he's wearing.  Not knowing is the _worst_ hell imaginable. You should know that."

Leon did know, but that didn't make this any easier. 

"Fine. I'll _consider_ it," he snapped. "...You know her better than I do at this point," he added, relenting somewhat.  That actually hurt a bit to admit. 

 

"Good," Mary replied.  "Which means I'm serious about the hoodie, then..."

 

Leon tried not to roll his eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

The sun finally began to creep up over the horizon, and Leon heard the sounds of the rest of the squad beginning to stir.  Along with a new sensation of effortless strength and speed, he found that he often picked up on sounds, movements, and even scents with thoughtless ease, even if he would have needed to strain to perceive them before.  He was even fairly certain that he was detecting the faint sound of Mary's pulse.  Like the voice or the way a person learned to recognize familiar people by the particular sound of their footsteps, Leon was beginning to realize it was yet another audible fingerprint.  He silently slipped back into the building, finding a comfortable vantage leaning against the armrest of a sofa, and observed.

Like the timbre of a voice, or a silhouette, he finally pinpointed what it was that his further awakened vampire senses were attuning to.  He'd already instinctively felt a sort of awareness of each person's presence, identifying without seeing whenever they had drawn near.  But now, he closed his eyes and  _listened_.  Each person had a distinct character of tempo and pitch.  It wasn't just the signature of the heartbeat, but even things like the rustle of fabric, the soft sigh of Stahn's long mane distinct from the rustle of Mary's bushy ponytail.  It was the creak of leather belts, the pitch of breath, the pattern of footsteps, the accompanying tempo of the heart.  Each person was a unique texture of sound and Leon wondered that he'd never noticed it before.  

Though mentioning it aloud would probably elicit some snide remarks, each person had a unique, though not unpleasant, scent.  Even as a human, of course, he'd known this was true and it often only came up in matters of close quarters or poor hygiene.  Had Leon actually cared, he might find this sudden insight to every person around him a bit invasive. 

**_Finally realizing the curse comes with its share of small blessings, young master?_ **

Leon shifted. 

 _I suppose it's only natural that a_ beast _would possess a predator's instincts and ability.  Blessed? I am merely a wolf recognizing the scent of its prey._

Chaltier laughed, and Leon felt a brief surge of powerful desire, followed by a flicker of fear when he realized he didn't know if that desire had come from the demon or himself. 

It was quickly suppressed. 

_**Your prey?  Or your pack?  I think they've decided to take you in like a stray dog whether you like it or not.** _

Leon didn't know how to respond to that.  He let himself slip deeper within his thoughts, keeping an ear to the world outside.

 

* * *

 

 

He opened his eyes to a familiar darkness and an equally familiar face.  While the not-space of this mindscape had once been featureless white, in recollection, the harsh brightness of that endless plain seemed stark and lonely.  The darkness surrounding him now was the silent embrace of night, close and familiar, where he could hide safely from prying eyes.  

Chaltier was regarding him with a thoughtful expression, unusually somber. 

 

 

The orphaned chains at his wrists accompanied the slightest movement with a faint metallic tinkle. Leon found yet another thread weaving itself into the texture of sound that defined one of his companions, his oldest and closest of those accompanying him.  Leon wondered about the shackles, sometimes.  They had first appeared when Leon had ceremonially offered his blood to the sword within which Chaltier was bound.  Chaltier had been chained by the terms of the contract, forced to explain the rules of some new test of willpower that would allow Leon to unleash a far greater part of Chal's power.   Leon had shattered the chains himself before Chaltier had finished explaining.   Surely the demon could have dispelled them? Perhaps by following the rules to the letter, and explaining the rest anyway to banish the iron bands that remained.  

Chaltier hadn't done so, and so Leon wondered. 

He pulled himself from distraction, realizing he would need to get used to this change.  Allowing the new sensory input to divert his attention could prove lethal if it happened out in the open. 

 

"Chal."

 

The demon inclined his head slightly in response. 

 

"I'm not the only one who's changing," Leon said, shoving the subject onto the proverbial table immediately, the words coming out with in a rush.  He tossed them there as if they'd burned him. The familiar coil of unease returned, settling heavily in the pit of his stomach. 

 

His demon companion's eyes closed briefly, and Leon saw the briefest glimpse of that same uncertainty, kin to his own.   Chaltier was no more certain of their future now than Leon, and he never really had been.  Leon had always thought of Chaltier as a constant, unaffected by the violent upheavals and changes that had shattered Leon and remade him, sculpting him into something slightly less familiar each time.  Leon had thought that the understanding between them was a result of Chaltier opening up, even meeting him halfway as Leon did the same.  Until now, he had never really considered that the consequences might go both ways.  

"...And it's my fault, isn't it?"

 

This finally drew a response from Chaltier. 

 

 _**I don't know.  But if it's anyone's fault, it's mine as much as yours.  Maybe it wouldn't have happened without you, but I'm the only one who can change myself like this. My power is tied to my own self, my feelings, my** _ **being _.  Don't let your head swell up so much. Not_ everything _that happens to the people around you is something you did yourself.  You don't hang the sun in the sky, Bocchan*.  You didn't sap my power._ I  _did._**

 

It was, perhaps, the most he'd yet heard Chal say at once.  His demon spoke much more freely now than before - yet another difference. Not so long ago, Leon would have received a snide quip instead of a (somewhat backhanded) reassurance and an explanation. 

"How is that possible? Why would you do that to yourself? I assume it's not a... desired effect?"

 

Chaltier seemed to straighten, a seriousness in his expression that Leon seldom witnessed.  

_**I am a demon.  You're well aware, but I guess there's still some things they didn't teach you.** _

 

Leon nodded, waiting for Chaltier to continue.  This was the first time Chaltier had ever freely given any kind of information about  _what_ he was, rather than _who_ he was. Leon wasn't about to interrupt. 

 

_**I am bound by contract into the weapon you wield.  Demons manifest their power in different ways, depending largely on personality.  Those with the strongest will and violent tendencies tend to have larger weapons which cannot be dispelled into a smaller form and summoned.  These demons, like myself, generally have a very specific power.  We possess the human who wields us, giving them inhuman strength and speed and skill.** _

That... actually made a lot of sense.  Leon had wondered about the reasons for the different forms the demons took, but it had not seemed prudent to ask. 

 _**Leon.  I don't just siphon power into you through some conduit.  I possess you, and my strength becomes yours.  My** _ **desire _to possess you is what makes it work._**

Chal leaned forward, gripping Leon's shoulders tightly enough to be uncomfortable. 

_**I was trapped in an inanimate object. I could not see, or hear, or feel, or taste or smell.  I wanted to tear the world apart and I was trapped in my own solitary hell as a trinket on a pedestal.  It's like having no mouth when all you want to do is scream, starving but unable to eat, waiting like a dog for them to throw me a bone.** _

Leon shivered.

 

 _ **YOU were that bone.**_ His tone took on an almost vicious edge.   ** _You, the most infuriatingly cocky, nosy, stubborn child who thought you were so superior, like you were_ different  _from any other human, that I might make some kind of_ exception _for you.  ...That was my initial impression.  You wanted to make some kind of deal with me, acting friendly in an attempt to get my guard down.  I hated you, my captor.  I wanted your body, I wanted freedom.  You were my newest toy, and I spent every moment analyzing you and trying to find a way to break you as quickly as possible._**

Leon felt that tightness return, but he listened.  It was clear that things were different, now, but there was still something raw and desperate to Chaltier's words, even now.  And... Leon knew that very little had changed about the situation Chaltier had described.  Chal was still a captive, albeit with better company with whom to share some of that misery.  In the back of his mind, he filed this away, absently mulling it over and formulating a plan.  Something to consider soon. 

 _**You... didn't really give me many chances to try, though.  You wanted to talk, sure, but I was a fool. I should have** _ **let** _**you talk.  It would have given me the chance to catch you off guard.  Instead, you forced the confrontation onto your own terms, into the open.  You wanted a fair fight.   When I realized how much** _ **fun _it was... I guess I became willing to give you that fair fight.  I like a thrilling challenge.  You reminded me how it felt to hold a sword and face a worthy opponent._**

Leon couldn't help but smile, just a little. 

_**You were my window into the world.  When I possess you, I can see what you see, feel what you feel.  I needed it so badly, and when I can only give you that power at your discretion, it becomes all the more tantalizing.  Every taste made me hunger for more.** _

Chaltier was silent for a moment, and Leon realized that the metallic shimmer he heard was caused by a faint tremor in Chal's hands. 

 _**And then you died.  My window was gone, just for a moment, and I didn't want that.  Then Hugo reached down and forced you back into the living world with his own blood.  That changed so many things.  I was already** _ **actually _considering your proposal at this... truce.   Not a ceasefire, even.   I was baffled.  You were offering companionship and telling me it was okay if I still attacked you. Most humans wouldn't do that._**

Leon wasn't quite sure how to feel.  Chaltier wasn't just offering an explanation. It felt more like the demon was pouring his heart out, just this once, and Leon wasn't sure what he'd done to earn that amount of trust.  He knew better than to say Chaltier was  _vulnerable_ right now, but Leon had paid nothing in exchange for the response Chaltier was giving him.  Again, different.  Chaltier was giving without taking, something a human would do. 

 _Most **demons** wouldn't do **this**_ , Leon thought in an echo of Chaltier's words. This was based on what he had learned about demons, anyway, from Chaltier himself. 

 _**But you were something** _ **closer** _**to kin, after that, and I realized I had stopped thinking of you as a means to an end a while ago.  And there was the potential for you to be around much, much longer than a brief human lifespan.  I started actually caring about your opinions. It was strange to have someone to talk to that was actually** _ **worth _talking to.  You were one step closer to sharing my own perspective, one step removed from a human's.  I guess I was just a bit more... invested in the outcome of your existence.  And then you were alone and without a single ally, so you came to_ me _more and more._**

Chaltier chuckled. 

 _**I am not starved for attention. I am not human. But I do get** _ **bored** _ **.  It was the least bored I had been in ages.  I started to actually like you.  You didn't talk to me or invoke me just because you wanted something only I could give you.  You wanted** _ **me _, not my power.  It was refreshing to have someone more interested in Chaltier the demon than Chaltier the weapon._**

He was almost smiling, but after a moment his expression sobered again. 

**_That should have been the first warning sign._ **

   

 _**I wanted to talk, not take over.  I started to like you.  I was interested in watching to see what you would** _ **do _, not because I was waiting for a moment of weakness.  I lost sight of my goals, as a demon.  But most of all, I no longer felt such a burning_ need _.  As many skirmishes as you fought, and as often as you let me in, even if I wasn't the one in control, the urgency became less.  A starving man might not enjoy being force fed with his hands bound as much as eating whatever and however he wants, but his stomach doesn't discriminate, and his pain is still eased._**

Leon's brow furrowed, wondering just  _how much_ of that analogy was accurate.  Was he forcing Chaltier like a puppeteer pulling strings?

 _**I enjoyed it, and like an addict finally getting his fix after a long dry spell, I relaxed.  I realized I didn't mind this so much. Because it's you, it's different.  I was willing to settle for this, for a while.   I was okay with this, for a while.   And then you started letting me stay.  Not the level of possession I need in battle to strengthen you.  Just enough that I can live what you experience instead of just watching through the glass.   I wasn't content, but I was temporarily, nearly sated.   And we became a perfect unit, no delay between action and reaction, a perfect warrior.   It was thrilling.  But even as I seeped into you, I think maybe** _ **you** _**started to seep into** _ **me** _**.** _

Leon's heart was fluttering in his chest, uncertain why he felt so anxious with anticipation.  He had spent  _years_ wondering how Chaltier truly felt about their arrangement- no, their _relationship_ , their **friendship**.  Even if this changed nothing about the current standing between them, he felt like they were teetering on the edge of _something_ , perched and about to fall into an unknown from which there was no going back.  

"I have been so selfish," Leon whispered. 

 _**Not as selfish as I.  I** _ **am _a demon, Bocchan. We have 'selfish' perfected into to an art form._**

Leon crossed his arms with a huff.  "I _wonder._ "  The dryness was _palpable_.

 _**In any case, I should have been more careful.  I got a pretty substantial taste of what it felt like to care about anything besides myself, thanks to you. Secondhand empathy.   Not just in bits and pieces.  It was constant.  It was alien at first but I got** _ **used _to it._**

A pause.

 _**Then... I think I started caring about** _ **you _, not just the possibilities you represent.  And it goes against everything I_ am _to do that.  But I can't stop.  I decided I might as well go along with it.  I became more interested in protecting you than_ possessing _you._**

And that's when it all clicked into place.  Leon inhaled sharply, realizing this actually had nothing to do with his second transformation. 

 _ **So... yes, I guess it's your fault, in a way, but it's not something you**_ **did _.  Besides, you're strong enough now that... you don't_ need _me anymore to fight.  You can do that on your own against vampires, now.  I had sunk my claws into you so deeply at first, but my hold is loosening, because I..._**  

The words seemed to catch in Chaltier's throat, but Leon understood. 

"It's okay.  I get it," Leon whispered, feeling a little bit of awe, and even if Chaltier couldn't bring himself to describe the feeling, he didn't  _have_ to.  Leon felt it, too. 

Chaltier chuckled, more softly than usual.  Leon was starting to think that Chaltier's laughs were his favorite of the sound that was  _Chaltier_ in his mind. 

"I..." He'd never really voiced this desire out loud before, but Leon thought that now was the right time. 

"I... I've been thinking.  I want to find a way to give you a body of your own, if it's possible."

Chaltier's smile was genuine, this time. 

_**I know.  You can't hide much from me.   Thank you, regardless.** _

That other plan, the one Leon had been mulling over, finally settled into place as well:

"In the meantime, if you really feel the way you just said... I wouldn't be opposed to letting you drive from time to time. A contract of my own, maybe.  It'll have to be temporary, because I need my body, too, but..."

Leon already knew he was in too deep as it was, so he might as well take the plunge.  He already (somewhat recklessly) allowed Chaltier a small piece of his mental real estate at all times, something he  _knew_ was dangerous.  But part of him trusted the demon in a way he could not explain.  He wasn't like Stahn, who only allowed Dymlos to possess him on the battlefield, nor did he open the channels very far.  He'd seen one soldier draw too much power from his demon before, and it had possessed him completely.   

This was different, what they had now, a constant connection.  It was like a window, as Chaltier said, between them- never truly prohibitive. It wasn't a locked door that he occasionally opened wide, but a small opening that always allowed the light through, and sometimes he might even open it and reach a hand out.   But what he was proposing, now, was something very different.

 _**You know when you were unconscious after your second almost-death, Stahn actually thanked me?  He**  _ **knew _what you'd been doing, too.  He wasn't even_ surprised _when I answered him with your mouth.  He'd been watching us for some time.  I don't know about the others, but I think he's_ one _you might actually manage to_ not  _scare off with such a reckless proposal._**

Leon chuckled.  "It goes without saying, but I would have some strict rules for such a contract.  You will not hurt or antagonize anyone I consider an ally or friend. But I guess I have to say it formally anyway.  I think you know by now that I wouldn't want that.  Ask before doing anything that  _might_ hurt one of them. 

He held up a second finger.  "Two. No killing of any humans unless strictly necessary and with my explicit permission.  Incapacitate if necessary. If an exception must be made, I will let you know."

One more finger.  "Lastly, no harming of any humans without a very good reason, and you better run it by me first.  Don't go drinking some stranger's blood or torturing civilians.  I know if soldiers who aren't in this squad see us we'll likely have a fight on our hands.  Priority will be escaping, not fighting them.  Incapacitate if necessary.  That means no running into a civilian hideout and terrorizing them for fun, either."

 _**Where's the fun in** _ **any** _**of this, then?** _

Leon smirked.  "Well, there's still plenty of other monsters out there.  Vampires are free game if they attempt to harm us.  I know there's at least one other 'friendly' vampire out there, since that Hiiragi man mentioned one traveling with this squad we're looking for.  He's off limits, too."

Chaltier was silent, considering. Leon's expression softened. 

"It's not like I'm doing this out of pity.  You basically said that even now, you're my captive audience.  I feel differently.   You're my copilot, Chal.  But I think it'd do us both good if you got a chance to fly.  That would give me a chance to step back for a while."  He let some of the tiredness finally creep into his tone.  "I honestly don't care much for most humans, either. But I am not a cruel person.  It's still not what you really want, but I can't willingly let you slaughter innocent people, and I still need this body to accomplish my own goals."

Chaltier was still silent, but expectant.  Leon tilted his head. 

"I don't like being a captor. And thanks to that blond idiot, I think you and I are going to be stuck like this for a very, very long time unless I find a way to return you.  Even if you're okay being  _my_ captive for now, wouldn't it grind you down after a decade or two?"

 _**You're proposing that we do this so that I can let off some steam before I burst from the pressure?  I'm not** _ **that _weak.  I have excellent self-control, when I decide it's worth exercising.  A decade or two is nothing.  A century or two from now might be a different story._**

Leon shook his head.  "That's not it," he sighed, feeling a sudden twinge of self-consciousness. "I... I guess I'm saying I care about you too.  It's not just that I'd miss you if you disappeared.  I can't give you everything you want, but... I don't  _like_ hurting you. I'm  _not_ a demon.  It doesn't fill me with _satisfaction_.  I would be happier knowing _you_ are happier.  If this is something you would enjoy, then we should do it. It's that simple. There's very little I  _can_ give you, Chal.  But I can give you this."  A pause.  "...And it wouldn't be entirely bad for me, either," he mumbled. 

Chaltier smirked a bit at that.   _ **It would be an escape for you, and a chance for me to run wild and wreak a little havoc.  But**_ **just _a little.  Some_ tame _havoc.  That's an oxymoron if I ever heard one.  Fine. So I can't hurt or terrorize your friends or any innocent humans.  I will not kill people unless necessary, I will not harm humans unless provoked, and I will not attack vampires until they give me an excuse to do so.   I accept._**

Leon pulled out the dagger he kept hidden, drawing a red line across his palm, holding his hand out.  "I don't know anything about ceremonial contracts, but blood seems to be the currency for all of them, in one way or another, right?"  He looked Chaltier firmly in the eyes.  "My terms are as stated.  Also, any such excursions will be discussed beforehand with a fixed time limit.  Also, even if my life is in danger, you will  _not_ break the first rule.  I'm not going let someone important to me be sacrificed just to save my worthless hide.  You will discuss it with me first.  Even if  _you_ don't care about them, I do.  Marian is off limits.  So is Stahn.  Stahn's squad, by extension.  Do you still accept?"

_**So formal.  Yes, I pretty much figured it would be something like that.  You're as thick headed as that blond idiot sometimes, you know.** _

Chal's form rippled, and one of his gloves vanished (though the manacle remained).  He drew a similar dagger, slicing his own palm, and clasped Leon's hand. 

 _**For someone who used to be human, you know, you're not too bad.  ...**_ **Technically** _ **, none of this holds any**_ **real** _**contractual power over me, but I'll honor it.  As fun as it would be to not have to discriminate on who I can and can't maim, it's honestly not worth alienating you over it.   You're giving me the inch.  I'll take the inch, instead of forcing a mile out of you.** _

Leon batted Chal's hand away, once Chaltier's statement sunk in.  "So you... let me make a fool of myself with all that just now for _no reason_?"

_**Oh there was definitely a reason.  I needed some entertainment after all this serious talk.** _

Chal licked his own bloody palm, and Leon raised an eyebrow.  "...Was that _entirely_ necessary?"  He resisted the sudden overwhelming curiosity urging him to imitate the demon.  He was preoccupied enough already learning what each of his companions sounded and smelled like.  He didn't need to be thinking about how Chaltier  _tasted_. That would just be setting an unfortunate precedent, and thinking about _human_ blood still elicited an involuntary sensation of nausea.  

Chaltier was looking at him with something like disappointment.  

_**Still not over that aversion, I see.   That's a shame.  Stahn seemed more than willing to share.  We'll need to do something about that.  Can't have you going mad with starvation and turning into a demon yourself.** _

Leon looked sharply at Chaltier.   "Is that what happened to you?"

Chal shook his head.  

_**No.  But it is one way.  Not the most pleasant of ways, but then... none of them are.** _

Leon waited for more of an explanation, but none came. This was something Chal still seemed unwilling to discuss.  Perhaps the memory was too personal or painful, but Leon let it go. 

"I'll... I'll keep that in mind."

_**You should go back.  Stahn just called your name.** _

Leon cursed. He'd been distracted by the shock of that last revelation. 

"Thank you.  We'll talk more later about this arrangement."

Chaltier nodded, and Leon opened his eyes. 

 

* * *

 

 

Leon's eyes snapped open from his position on the armrest, taking in a disheveled and still bleary-eyed Stahn Aileron. 

"Yes?"

Stahn blinked.  "Ah, I was just asking how you feel?  Are you okay?"

Leon shrugged.  "I was... preoccupied.   I'm fine.  There are a few changes I need to get used to." 

Stahn tilted his head.  "Changes? Like your eyes?"

Leon sighed.  "Something like that."

Stahn yawned.  Apparently the others had already eaten, leaving Leon to... doze, or whatever they thought he was doing.  Leon had tried not to feel put out when he realized he'd never be able to enjoy sweets again.   That had been a particularly painful blow, but when he was surrounded by vampires, at least he hadn't been constantly reminded of human foods he'd miss.  But... now, for some reason, the thought of those same foods appealed to him much less.  He might miss them, but it was unsettling to realize he didn't even  _want_ them anymore.   Was.... was he already starting to lose even more pieces of Emilio?  Or was that purely a factor of his physiology?  Stahn's voice pulled him out of those thoughts.

"Leon, I've been meaning to ask....  _why_ did that happen?  You looked basically human before, but now..."

 

 Leon covered up his dread with a shrug.  Would Stahn be repulsed now that Leon looked just like the rest of the monsters?  It was a possibility he had considered.

 

"And now I look just like the rest of the bloodsucking monsters."

 

Stahn frowned.  "Not at all. You still look like Leon to me, and not like anyone else.  Leon just has different colored eyes now.  And your ears..."

 

That was... almost sweet of Stahn to say, and yet remarkably, predictably very  _Stahn_. 

 

 "Yes.  That's not all, though.  Stahn, I said before that we need to talk about what happened back there, and what you did."

Stahn still looked troubled, but he moved to dust off one of the couch cushions next to Leon's perch on the armrest, seating himself there.

"Are you sure you're really okay, Leon? You've been kinda... distant a lot since then. Quieter than usual."

Leon realized he needed to stop thinking of Stahn as dull.  The older boy was definitely observant, even if his worldly knowledge was painfully lacking in some areas.  Stahn was the opposite of dull, in fact.  He was too _sensitive_ for his own good, in more than one way.  That bleeding heart was going to get the boy seriously hurt someday, but he was also remarkably keen on the people around him.  Leon found it a bit irritating that Stahn had seen right through his dismissal of his own troubles.

"...Well.  I will explain why, which also happens to be the answer to  _your_ question," Leon allowed, seeing no point in denying that some things were not entirely okay when he'd already been caught.  But this needed clarification. "Because I'm not sure you realize the entirety of what you did."  Leon's tone was not accusing, to his own surprise, merely wary and weary.  "You meant no harm, and I do owe you my life."

Stahn waved that away.  "You don't owe me anything.  That's something friends do; they help each other.  I'd do it again anytime. "

"Hopefully there will be no need," Leon replied, grimacing.  

Stahn sighed.  "I mean, I guess you can't fix yourself if you're starving.  That makes sense.  Do... Do all vampires look more human if they go too long without blood?"

Leon laughed bitterly.  "No.  If anything, going without blood for too long apparently makes us even  _less_ human.  I recently learned that this is one way a vampire might become a man eater demon.  So... No.  If anything, they might grow horns."

Stahn took a moment to absorb that, perplexed and a bit horrified.  "But then.... what about you?"

 

Leon shook his head.  "It had nothing to do with starving myself.  The reason I looked that way is because since my creation, since I was turned, not once have I had so much as a single drop of human blood."

 

He let  _that_ bombshell sink in for a moment, too, and Stahn finally turned to look at him with wide eyes. 

 

" _How_? How is that even possible?  And... then that means I was..."

 

Leon closed his eyes.  "You were the first.   Until now, I survived on the blood of the vampire who sired me.  It's not a permanent solution, but... He had... methods.   He..." Leon's gaze grew briefly distant and he suppressed a shiver.  Stahn felt his heart clench, and it was gone, and Leon was back in the present. "I was not given a choice."

 

Stahn stared down at their footprints in the thick dust covering the floor, listening in a much more subdued manner. Leon continued.

 

"Because of that, I was an incomplete vampire.  I still looked somewhat human, I still aged, I was still much weaker than my sire.  He didn't want to turn me completely, either, and so he forbade me from drinking human blood.  And then, he ensured that I never would.  He is... persuasive. And thorough."

 

Stahn wanted to ask, but Leon's tone dissuaded him.   Instead, he had an offer. 

 

"Leon, please let me know if you need blood. I don't mi-"

 

Leon cut him off with a sharp gesture.  

 

"I _cannot_.  It makes me ill. I'll have to find another solution."  And true, to Stahn's eye, Leon seemed to look a bit queasy just from the suggestion alone.  What had this sire of Leon's  _done_ to him?  What did it take to make a vampire develop such an aversion to blood?

 

"In any case, the transformation is complete.  I possess strength on par with my sire, which means I might actually stand a chance if he decides to come for me.   But it also means that I am a full vampire, now.  Never aging, never growing, unchanging and cold.  I will never grow old. My body will never grow past this age.  I'll be a teenager forever."

Leon's tone was resigned, much less bitter than he'd felt at first.   He had realized a while ago that this was the only likely fate he faced aside from death.  He'd just hoped to postpone it as long as possible so that his body could hopefully mature, first.   And it was not like a young body was cause for disrespect among vampires.  The vampire queen Kruhl Tepes herself looked even younger than he.   

Stahn was looking appropriately horrified. 

"Leon..... I, I didn't realize..."

Leon shrugged.  "I'm not upset, Stahn." Not anymore, not at Stahn, at least. "Don't start feeling guilty.  It was going to happen eventually.  Please remember that your actions have consequences.  If you had asked me beforehand, I could have chosen.  Instead, I was given no choice. Again."

Stahn shook his head.  "I'm.... I'm sorry.   I didn't think of it until after you lost consciousness.  I..."  Leon was surprised to see that Stahn's eyes shone with unshed tears.  "You weren't even breathing anymore, Leon.  Your heart was stopping. I couldn't think of anything else to do, and that only came to me at the last moment, when we all realized we'd never seen you drink anything and it was obviously worth trying..."  

Leon's expression softened.  "...I didn't know.  My apologies.  You did the only thing you could.  I'm not saying you shouldn't have done it.  But if you are able, please ask.  I... I am not sure which I would have chosen, in that moment."

Stahn looked over at Leon in confusion. "But... there's not really a choice at all.  The only other option was death."

 

Leon shrugged.  "Everyone has different values.  Some things are too abhorrent to justify your own survival."

 

Stahn's response was faint with incredulity. "How is taking something that was freely given ab..  _abhorrent_?"

 

Leon felt his mouth quirk into a lopsided smile as Stahn stumbled over the word.   It was kind of endearing. 

 

"It wasn't.  But living on for centuries, selfishly surviving off of the pain and blood of other people when I myself have very little purpose in life? That is abhorrent.  I am just not sure if, in that moment, it would have seemed less or more abhorrent than willingly choosing death instead.  Choosing self preservation and selfishness or giving up without a fight when the answer is in front of me?"

 

Stahn shook his head.  "Then... maybe it's best that things turned out the way they did.  Nobody should have to make a choice like that. And I didn't know...  If it ever comes to something like that again.... I will ask.  But Leon, none of this is okay."

 

Leon's gaze grew downcast.  "Yes, well.  That's just how things are."

 

Stahn glanced up at him again.  "I know.  But I just want to make sure you know that  _it's okay to **not** **be okay**_."

 

Leon turned to meet Stahn's gaze, and felt a different kind of tightness in his chest.  "That's... very naive.  But I appreciate it."

 

Stahn rose to his feet, reaching back to tug his wild mane into a more manageable queue.  "Maybe, but it's true.  You have friends here, Leon.  Let me know if there's anything I can do to help.  Even if there  _isn't_ , you can still say you're not okay.  Sometimes it just helps to let someone know, or to talk about it.   Sometimes it helps just _knowing_ that someone else knows.  None of us expect you or anyone else to be perfect.  Everyone goes through bad stuff sometimes, especially now.  We'll help each other through it, okay?"

 

Leon let the offer hang in the air for a moment, absorbing Stahn's words.  It was... such a  _different_ perspective from his own, but maybe Stahn was right.  At least, if Leon was among people he could trust, maybe there was some merit to this.   Leon couldn't bring himself to bare his feelings and troubles and weaknesses to a group of people he'd known for less than a week, but it was a concept he would consider.  It had always been good to get things off his chest when he spoke to Marian, before.  

 

"...Okay," Leon breathed.  "Thank you.   I just need some time to adjust, Stahn. I'll be okay."

 

That wasn't quite the same as 'I  _am_ okay', and Stahn felt his heart swell a bit, knowing that Leon was finally willing to admit that much.  The first step to fixing a problem is admitting it exists in the first place, right?

 

"Yes, you will be," Stahn agreed, grinning.

 

   

 

 

* * *

[ [Rest of the Heart](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lrlmq3XQSG4) ]

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (At some point, I'll probably add in illustrations of Mary here, too. But for once, the story came to me before all the drawings happened.)  
> *Bocchan. Translates to 'young master' but basically in canon Chaltier almost ALWAYS uses this rather than Leon's name. But it just sounds more endearing in Japanese than English. It doesn't have the same feeling. I hope that's okay.


	8. Fang Which Wants Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the heart which rejects it

 

One disadvantage to traveling with a band of humans was that it made the empty ache inside of him much harder to ignore.  Leon had hoped... now that his body had completed its transformations, he had hoped his thirst would lessen, or that he would be able to last longer before needing to quench it.   Perhaps it was because Stahn's offering had only been enough to allow him to heal, but not enough to sate him.  Leon didn't know. 

After a morning spent in emotionally exhausting conversation, he kept to himself, remaining on the fringe of this group so that he would not be forced to interact further.  Perhaps it had been worth those conversations, however, as Stahn was respecting his need for some distance and quiet.  The ride was less smooth going this day, many detours becoming necessary when the road became impassible, or horsemen were sighted in numbers too large to be worth the risk.  They had a general idea of the direction the squad had initially gone.  Leon and Garr (Woodrow? He'd never received an explanation) had some skill in tracking, though the reasons differed widely. The group had fled on foot, so it didn't seem likely they had traveled very far, even given the amount of time that had passed.  They would have needed to avoid detection, which prohibited traveling by the quickest routes. 

Unfortunately, his own group was hampered by the same need, though having a vehicle certainly helped.  It was unfortunate that it was also larger and more difficult to hide than a group of soldiers on foot, restricted mainly to roadways. 

While this day had been less  _exciting_ than the last few, it was off to a poor start.  Leon was starting get irritated with the number of times they had needed to turn off into an alley or side road or even off road to avoid detection. It seemed like there was a higher level of vampire activity in the area, which made this awkward. Leon was beginning to think it might be better to continue on foot.  They had just come from one of the smaller communities where people had managed to live in the more primitive conditions.  He wondered why all of them hadn't tried to move to a place like Shibuya, which boasted the most modern of facilities, protection by the JIDA as their headquarters, and perhaps was one of the safest places in all of japan... for a human.  

Mary's suggestion of headphones stuck, and Leon found himself staying in the vehicle for the entirety of the brief stop, fidgeting with the uncomfortable press of synthetic foam, keeping his eyes lowered.  He would close them completely, but the damn contraption essentially crippled his ability to hear.  It was like he was human again.

Still, it was an opportunity to compose himself as he performed the crucial task of "guarding" their stuff from the townsfolk who wanted to give the military vehicle as wide a berth as possible.  Leon wondered what they were afraid of.  Surely not himself.  But the military?  Or being associated with it, if they were under protection of the vampires?  No these people weren't dressed like livestock.  They probably had come to fear outsiders in general, between the vampires, the military, the monsters, and possible looters. 

The air was crisp, carrying unfamiliar scents, and Leon found himself actually able to enjoy it.  The wind carried tales that could drown out the lingering aroma of his friends, innocuous instead of enticing. He shifted the scarf wound around his shoulders- Mary had insisted upon it. They hadn't a spare uniform, his vampire garb was too incriminating, and the only spare clothing they had found was entirely weather inappropriate.  Leon didn't feel the cooler temperatures, but it would look out of place to a human.

  

Leon had earlier made the suggestion that they take some salvaged supplies with them, nothing they themselves might need, but in the event that they come across such a village as this.  Extra canned goods, medicine that hadn't expired, since there had been a pharmacy nearby and leon had no difficulty breaking down locked doors to search some of the storerooms.  It would be a good way to barter for information... tactfully of, course.  He could see Stahn bending down to talk to a small child, his demeanor disarming and completely genuine.  Hadn't Stahn mentioned that he had a younger sister?? Not  _that_ much younger than himself, but... Leon was beginning to think there was some truth to the concept of "once a big brother, always a big brother."

Family.   Stahn still had a family.  And somewhere, back in Shibuya, so did Leon. 

While he'd instinctively pushed back the instant he felt pressure from Mary, he realized now that she was entirely right.  Perhaps in a different world, there would be better reasons for keeping the distance between them, but he was neglecting his only living kin when he should be cherishing her.  He should at least meet her once, to see her with his own eyes, to let her see him.  Then he could walk out of her life, never to inflict his warped presence on her again, if she so wished.  

 

Leon idly continued to watch Stahn, now talking to someone closer to his own age, asking if any other strangers had come through recently.   It was actually a bit impressive to see these suspicious, guarded folk start to relax in Stahn's presence.  They were all fools to trust a stranger so easily.   _Leon_ knew Stahn could be trusted, by this point, but these people had no way of knowing it.  It was almost irritating, the way Stahn's happy-go-lucky, play-in-the-sun attitude persisted in every atmosphere.  Leon had thought it was an act, at first, some kind of defense mechanism against the world around him.  But...

Maybe Stahn really was just a ray of sunshine incarnate.  Leon thought people like that had died out when the world ended.  It was a rare sight, to be sure. And he saw now that it had its uses.  No amount of questioning would have made these people open up and volunteer information the way Stahn's smile apparently could. Perhaps they should use this to their advantage more often.   Let Stahn become the face of their squad, even if Garr was the true appointed officer and tactical leader. 

Their squad.  His squad.  When had Leon started thinking in such inclusive terms?

_**They're starting to grow on you.  And either you're getting better at making friends, or Stahn is a force of nature.  But this will be good for you.** _

Leon sighed.  Good for him how??  He was traveling with an enormous liability, and there was so much more that could go wrong because of it.  He generally wanted the people he cared about to be safe and far away, not right in the middle of danger beside him.   And Stahn seemed to have become one of the people Leon didn't particularly want to see hurt.  

It didn't make sense.  Stahn wasn't particularly extraordinary. His cheerfulness was grating, his emotional insight was irritating, and the boy was  _loud_. And lazy. 

 _**It makes perfect sense.  He saved your life, and he saved the life of the only other person you cared about.  He's gone out of his way to help you, and he** _ **has _been trying to befriend you since the start._ You _just resisted him every step of the way, for the better half of a week, and you didn't give in until you were literally on your deathbed._**

Leon scanned the buildings around them, squinting against the sun. Even with the armband protecting him, the light wasn't particularly comfortable.  

_Well.  When you put it that way, I guess you have a point.  He tries hard._

**_Yes, he does._ **

The others soon returned, and Leon ripped the plastic earpieces off as soon as they were out of sight of the town. They had a lead, which was the first good news he'd heard all day. 

 

* * *

 

 

Even when Leon was crammed into an enclosed space with the squad, the ache had generally been tolerable.  Leon had needed to quickly master self control in Hugo's custody, after all.  This was nothing new.  Instead of being literally starving and faced with Marian, he was merely famished and faced with friends who could defend themselves.  Not that Leon would give them a need to defend themselves. But he felt slightly  _less_ worried about his present situation. 

That did not make it pleasant, of course.

 

Still, when they finally ended up facing a horseman that could not be avoided, and Stahn ended up getting knocked into the rubble, Leon was practically assaulted by the scent of blood coming from the taller boy's scrapes.  The wounds had already healed by the time the battle ended, and Leon hoped nobody noticed his slight shortness of breath, or the way he kept as far away from Stahn as possible without being suspicious.  He held a hand over his nose and mouth, taking several deep breaths.  He needed to desensitize himself to it again.  When it wasn't right in front of his face, it wasn't so bad.  The problem was that his vials from Hugo had shattered, so in addition to the assault on his psyche, he was being flanked by his traitorous body's needs.   Maybe the scarf was a good idea after all.  Not caring how it looked, he wound it over the lower half of his face.  

 

Stahn gave him a concerned look, and Leon turned away with a scowl.  "I told you.  Makes me ill," he said, gesturing vaguely at the drying stain on Stahn's sleeve.  "I just need to get used to having a more sensitive nose."

 

He wasn't lying, just avoiding the fact that it had also awoken the familiar, gnawing ache in his stomach, even as it filled him with anxiety and revulsion.   He tried not to let the scent take him back to those memories, focusing instead on watching Johnny give his cursed instrument a (probably entirely unnecessary) tuneup.  

 

Stahn still had a peculiar expression, but he let it drop. 

* * *

 

 

Leon soon found himself in the role of scout, his eyes keener than a human's, along with his ears and other senses.  Ascending to a better vantage point was often effortless. These were all good reasons, but he found that the chance to escape from the group made it equally worthwhile.  Leon didn't really even have a plan, except maybe driving himself to exhaustion.  He was half expecting to find Hugo looming behind him the next time he left the confines of the vehicle.   

 

Thankfully, this did not happen. 

 

Still, he was starting to get used to his new state of being.  So long as there wasn't any actual fresh blood, his companions were a tolerable presence. It had only taken him two days to adjust, as this change was not far removed from his previous state.   The first change had been much more drastic. 

 

The daylight was fading, but Leon's eyes specialized in low light conditions.  He returned to the group, bending over the map with the rest, analyzing the likely routes the squad would have taken, depending on their goals.  When they managed to narrow the possibilities down to a tight radius, given what they'd learned from the townspeople, they finally had something approaching an actual destination, near the coast. 

* * *

 

 

This night left Leon just as restless as the last.  Maybe there was some merit to the sleeping in coffins thing he remembered seeing.   Still, having done more than enough talking with Chaltier already, he did try to sleep, to pass the time and give his mind a respite. 

 

In the morning, he awoke feeling no better.  He kept his distance, trying to calculate how long he might be able to hold out.  There was.... Going back to Hugo was not an option.  He could not work past his violent reactions to blood.  The only reason Stahn's attempt had worked had been because he was unconscious. He wasn't sure any other vampire's blood would work even if he was no longer necessarily dependent on Hugo, nor did he even want to try.   Stahn continued to shoot the occasional concerned glance his way, even asking him if he was doing all right.  Leon brushed off the questions, assuring them that he was fine. 

 

_Chal. If I became a demon, I... wouldn't be like you at all, would I?_

 

 _ **No,**_ came the immediate reply.  _ **You would be a man eater, ravenous and senseless in your killing.   Barbaric.   Insatiable. But well before that, you would be driven mad.**_

 

Leon shivered.   _What should I do?_

 

**_Your only option may be to overcome this._  **

 

Leon's hands curled into tight fists.  

 

_I can't.  Every time-_

 

Chal's voice rang like steel. 

 

 _**I know.  I was with you.  I know what he's done to you, but if you want to stay yourself, you** _ **will _have to overcome it.  You can't go on like this indefinitely._**

****

* * *

 

 

Another horseman, another battle.  But Leon hadn't been prepared for this one to actually target him- to get to the person behind him, he realized. But he reacted too slowly, and he was suddenly flung into the wall next to a second story window.  A miscalculation.  He felt a surge of anger not his own, and then the warmth left him as he choked out the name it belonged to.  A cloud of darkness left him, and the dragon surged forth as he crashed back down into the earth. 

 

He staggered to his feet, brushing rubble off of himself, dazed.  The Horseman was already dead, and Chal returned to him, the dragon's massive head coming down to nudge him,  _hard_ , and he stumbled back a step. 

He got the message, loud and clear, but then another dizzy spell had him sagging forward, and he let himself lean against the demon for just a moment.    Chal didn't  _look_ like he should be substantial at all, but he was solid enough. Maybe because Chal was willing himself to _be_ substantial. 

 

 

 

Once Leon regained his balance, he reached up to touch the massive jaw.  Chal closed his eyes, and dissipated into smoke. 

 

Leon dusted himself off, knowing what was coming but still not wanting to face it.  He stood where he'd landed, giving into the sudden childish impulse to close his eyes, to not have to  _see_ the disappointment he knew would be there.  He knew how sloppy this looked.  He was covered in dust and there was a scrape on his cheek that was healing far more sluggishly than it should. He heard footsteps, and he knew that they belonged to Stahn.  Of course it would be Stahn. 

Leon braced himself for the scolding, but all he heard was,

"Leon? Are you okay?"

Even though he wasn't looking, he knew Stahn was standing close from the disturbance in the air.  He also realized Stahn must have gotten scraped up, too, because the scent of blood was suddenly overwhelming and near.   And then Stahn's hand was reaching for his face, towards the scrape on his cheek, and Leon was suddenly in a  _very_ different time and place.  The hand suddenly belonged to someone infinitely more terrifying, familiar and too close and reeking of blood, holding-  Leon jerked back, flinching away from the hand and the phantom sensations, from the memories it evoked, trying to escape as the fear and pain and panic surged up inside him, choking him.  

 _" **Don't touch me!** "_ Leon cried, and Stahn froze in shock.   

Leon scrambled away, backing himself against the building, hunching forward, his arms flung defensively between himself and his perceived aggressor.  His eyes were wide and looking straight through Stahn, his breath ragged and his entire body trembling. 

Stahn slowly lowered his hand, feeling suddenly very lost, as Leon's eyes met his full of terror. This was wrong.  Something was very,  _very_ wrong.

With every fiber of his being Stahn wanted to rush forward and hug Leon, hold him and comfort him and he knew that was the  _worst_ thing he could probably do right now. Instead, he took a few slow steps forward, watching Leon tense, until he was just outside of arm's reach.  He stopped, then sank to the ground, kneeling with his hands safely on his knees.  

"Leon, it's _me_ \- it's Stahn.  It's okay. I won't touch you.  I promise.  I'm sorry."

Leon regarded him tensely for a moment longer, but it seemed to do the trick.  Stahn made his posture as non-aggressive as possible, and Leon finally seemed to come back from wherever he'd gone.  Fear became confusion, and after a few more seconds, Leon was finally staring  _at_ Stahn instead of through him. 

Stahn sighed with relief, and Leon finally took in his surroundings.

Leon grimaced, slumping down into a crouch.  They stayed like that for several seconds, Leon finally speaking once he could trust his voice not to waver.

"I... miscalculated."

 

" _I'll_ say," a voice said from a ways off to the side. Garr was watching him with his arms crossed, looking more concerned than upset, but there was still a slight edge of disappointment to his tone. "I'm not going to tell you how to take care of yourself, Leon. But I can't allow you to endanger yourself or the rest of this squad, either. Are you really that much of an amateur that you would so severely overestimate yourself?"

Garr was frowning, now, and Leon had the grace to flush with embarrassment.

 

"When I or anyone else in my squad asks you if you are well, I trust your judgement when you say you are.  But if I can't rely on you to _give_ me an honest assessment, then I can't risk letting you onto the battlefield. Understand?" The last word was spoken much more softly, without the harshness Leon was expecting. "You're hurt. You're able to walk away from it this time, but what about the next?"

Leon bit back the snarl he felt building. As much as it rankled him to be talked down to, Garr was _right_. Leon was a liability to his squad right now, and Garr was right to reprimand him. It stung Leon's pride, but he had no ground to stand on here.

 

"Again, I miscalculated," Leon bit out, keeping his eyes averted. "I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."

 

Garr nodded. "See that it doesn't. If you're not fit to fight, then let me know so I can account for that fact, all right? Common sense comes before pride in my squad."

  
Leon gave a short nod, finally looking up at taller man. He was young- only Stahn and Leon were younger, in this group- but he was a good leader. Leon should not resent him for doing what a leader should, and he forced himself to relax a bit more. He realized he was probably still radiating hostility, and there was little reason for it.

 

"I... I apologize. It is not my intention to endanger your comrades."

 

The corner of Garr's mouth curved up into a smile. "It happens," he replied, glancing at Stahn. "Good intentions and good tactics don't always mesh well, especially when you're well meaning and _stubborn_. All I ask is that you learn from this mistake and make an effort not to repeat it."

Garr's expression softened. "One of my greatest fears is that I'll make the same kind of miscalculation, and put my team into a situation we aren't equipped to handle. All of you are my responsibility. Help me keep _all_ of you safe by knowing your own limits, all right?"

 

Leon could understand this. He rose to his feet, meeting Garr's gaze steadily. "Understood."

 

Stahn rose as well, dusting himself off as Leon retreated back to the vehicle.  His eyes followed Leon's figure, his brow creased with worry.

 

* * *

 

 

As twilight fell, the group found themselves taking a bigger detour than usual as they stopped for the night.  They were well out of the city now, and here in the countryside, Stahn could  _almost_ pretend he was back home, before the apocalypse had happened. There were still signs of it everywhere, if you were looking for them, but it was less obvious out here.   

He wondered if there would ever be a time, in the distant future, where there were no longer such signs haunting every scene.  He wondered if he would live to see it, or if his children would, or their children.   He wondered if he'd live long enough to start a family in the first place. 

 

They ended up stopping at an abandoned farmhouse, familiar yet not for Stahn.  It was much more spacious than the cramped apartments they'd holed up in before, to everyone's relief.  Mary in particular was a practical woman, but she was glad for the opportunity to have a room to herself instead of sharing one with all the men that made up the rest of her squad. 

 

Leon withdrew, as he always did in the days...   _after_.  That event had branded itself into Stahn's mind, and while Leon was still Leon, it was undeniable that he had been changed by the experience.  And so, in Stahn's mind, everything since had become  _After_. 

 

Stahn's thoughts were pulled back to the earlier events of this day, and the whole affair had put him into an uncharacteristic melancholy.  He'd known, deep down and for some time, that Leon was a victim, in this war, rather than one of its perpetrators. 

 _A victim of fate,_ Stahn had thought of the boy who had been turned against his will into one of the enemy, and then was blackmailed into fighting for them, isolated and unhappy.  But Stahn now suspected that his analogy was a bit  _too_ apt.  Leon had reacted in a way that was far too extreme for a mere aversion.  In fact, hadn't Leon mentioned something about the vampire who sired him...

_He is.... persuasive.  And thorough._

Those were Leon's words, and Stahn felt something frighteningly like hatred begin to smolder deep inside himself.  This wasn't fate or chance.  It had been  _deliberate_. Stahn felt sick again.  Leon was a victim, yes, and Stahn was only now realizing just how much so.  For the first time in his life, Stahn found himself hating a _person_ he'd never even met.

_**Don't** **touch me**!_

Leon had _screamed_ , and all Stahn had done was reach toward the injury on his face with an empty hand.  Stahn's chest felt tight and his eyes stung when he tried to imagine what it would have taken to make Leon react that way.  Leon hadn't just been startled; he had been  _terrified._ Terrified of  _Stahn_.  It hurt, even though Stahn realized that Leon probably hadn't really been seeing  _Stahn_ , but somebody else.  

He sagged into a dusty chair, staring mutely at his upturned palms, trying to figure out what he had done, where he had gone wrong that he'd inadvertently triggered such terror within Leon.  If it meant Leon would never have to look at him like that _ever_  again, Stahn would never touch him again, if that was what Leon needed.  Leon should be able to feel  _safe_  in his presence.  There was something horribly wrong about all of this.  Leon had looked at him like he'd been expecting to be  _hurt_.  And he wouldn't do that unless he'd been _hurt_ **before**.  

Years ago, Stahn had vowed to use these hands to _protect_ the people he cared about, along with all who needed protecting.  

Stahn's fingers curled slowly into a tight fist. 

* * *

 

Leon had gone outside, letting the night air clear his head.  He was certainly not  _sulking_ , as Chal tried to put it, but he was not feeling terribly charitable or interested in socializing tonight.  That everything wrong with today had been his own fault just made matters worse. 

 ** _Not everything_ , **Chal interjected, not quite irritated, but with the air of someone tiredly taking up an old argument. 

"If I hadn't been so  _weak_ , it wouldn't be such an issue," Leon hissed in response, feeling a headache coming on. 

 _**It is a** _ **fact _that a sired vampire's strength is directly proportional to his sire's,_ once that vampire becomes complete _._** _**Yes, you were weaker than Hugo.  How is that your fault when it was his machinations that made it so to begin with?** _

 Leon busied himself by climbing up onto the roof of the shed instead of answering.  

_**You're like a young chick berating yourself for being unable to fly when your feathers haven't even grown in yet.   You were a cub trying to slay a grown tiger.  Some things simply cannot be done if the time is not yet right.  You did the right thing, the only thing you could, and you survived.** _

Leon gave an uncomfortable shrug.  "Even if you're right about all of that, it doesn't fix anything.  I'm still a monster who can't even do the one thing I'm _made_ to do, and yet I'm too much of a coward to _un_ make myself."

 

"I don't know what Chaltier is saying to you and I don't care," a voice called up to him from below, "but you are  _never_ a coward for deciding to live even when it's hard to go on." Stahn's eyes were bright and defiant in the moonlight. 

 

 Leon glared down at the intrusion, but Stahn didn't budge.  

 

"It's _rude_ to eavesdrop," Leon muttered, defenses coming up out of habit.  Stahn didn't seem put off by his hostility, though.  Stahn never had been. 

 

Stahn looked a bit sheepish.  "Sorry.  I didn't mean to, I was just looking to see where you'd gone.  But I couldn't... I couldn't _not_ say something when I heard you say that right when I walked out."

Leon relaxed a bit.  So Stahn hadn't been listening the whole time, at least, so Leon was spared _some_ embarrassment.  He still felt a bit off-kilter, though, and being caught when he wasn't at his best like this wasn't helping. 

"I'm sorry about earlier, too," Stahn continued, which brought Leon's train of thought to a stuttering halt.

 

"...Why?  As I said, _I_ miscalculated.  You had no fault in this. Miraculously."

 

Stahn looked perplexed.  "But... if I hadn't reached for you, you wouldn't have reacted like that.  So I'm sorry. I didn't mean to trigger that, even if I didn't know."

 

Leon sighed.  "Fine.  I accept your apology, if it makes you feel better.  I was not upset at you."

 

Stahn still didn't look happy, though, and Leon was starting to get irritated.   

 

"...I know you weren't.   I know you don't want to tell me about it, so I won't ask.  But can you at least tell me what  _not_ to do, so I don't make you feel that way again?"

 

Leon debated for a moment, because telling Stahn how to avoid triggering him essentially meant  _telling Stahn how to trigger him._ If Stahn had been  _anyone_ else, Leon would have _immediately_ refused.   He wasn't about to hand his weaknesses to  _anyone_ on a silver platter.  Though he may not realize it, that was essentially what Stahn was asking him to do. 

 

"If I do, you will tell  _no-one_ else.  I am _deadly_ serious about this, Stahn.  Not even your friends.  Not even this squad.  I'd rather get sent into another panic attack than take the slightest risk of letting the enemy have information of that nature about me.  Do you  _even realize_ what you're asking of me?  How dangerous that is?"

Leon didn't know what he was trying to accomplish by leading Stahn to this realization. He wasn't sure why he felt like teaching Stahn  _anything_ , but here they were.  

Stahn's eyes widened, then he looked appropriately contrite. 

"I... I'm sorry.  I didn't mean it like that.  You  _know_ I would never use it against-"

Leon cut him off.  "I know," he snapped.  "That's the  _only_ reason we're even having this conversation.  I don't think you're physically capable of stabbing someone in the back.  I just need to know that you  _can_ keep secrets, because I, too, would like to avoid a repeat of earlier today."

 

Stahn traced an X over his heart, giving an earnest look.  "On my honor, cross my heart, and any other oath you want me to swear. I will never hurt you, or allow anyone else to hurt you if it's within my power to prevent it.  I protect my friends."

 

The defiance was back, and Leon couldn't help but smile a bit.  Stahn was nothing if not earnest. 

 

"If you have blood on you, especially your hands, don't put them _anywhere_ near my body. Ever.  I'd prefer if you don't try to touch my face in  _general_ without asking first.   Keep your blood away from me.  You may not be able to smell it, but it makes it hard for me to breathe."  That was... a bit misleading, but not untrue.    It was panic that made his throat seize up and his chest painfully tight, but the blood was the catalyst for all of it. 

 "Don't touch me, don't hold me down, and keep them  _away_ from my face."

Stahn nodded.  "Okay. I won't.  Thank you for telling me."

Leon looked away, uncomfortable.  "Those things are unpleasant without the blood, but just the normal kind of unpleasant."

Stahn tilted his head.   "Leon... I've been meaning to ask.  You seem worse now than you did before... before you changed.  I came out here looking for you because I wanted to... um.  Offer my blood?"  He sounded almost sheepish, holding up a small bottle, and for the first time, Leon noticed a bandage on his arm, feeling a pang of guilt.  "You're at your limit, even I can tell, and I can't just... not do something to help you."

 

Leon shivered, looking away.  "I told you, I  _can't_."

 

Stahn didn't look convinced.  "Can't? Or won't?"

 

Leon shook his head.  "Can't.  You saw how I reacted today.  The same thing will just happen again."

 

Stahn frowned.  "So the only reason it worked before was because you were unconscious..." 

 

Leon was thankful that had been the case, because it had likely saved his life. His body had been unable to reject what was offered.   

 

"Stahn... it's okay.  There may not be anything I can do.  I'll go with you as far as I c-"

 

"That's not good enough!" Stahn was shaking.  "We'll figure something out! Maybe we can season it, or maybe we can try having you sleep,  _anything_ , but I'm not going to just watch you slowly starve to death when I am holding the solution  _in my hand._ "

 

Chaltier finally decided it was time to interject.

**_As much fun as this is, I do have a temporary solution._ **

Leon glanced down at the blade in surprise. 

 _**You might have a backwards, pathetic aversion to blood, but** _ **I _don't.  This wouldn't be a problem for me._** _**And you're going to absolutely hate it, so use the time I'll buy you to come up with a solution you** _ **can _live with indefinitely._**

Stahn waited expectantly, knowing that a conversation was occurring between the two.  

"...Stahn, I..."

Stahn huffed.  "It's Chaltier, right?  I know he's a lot more 'awake' than you want to let on.  I know he can hear me. What did he say?"

 

 

Leon's eyes took on an odd glint, and it wasn't Leon who answered. 

 

"Leon is going to let _me_ do the dirty work. Would it shock you to know he's _already_ made a bargain with me, and was already planning on  _deliberately_ letting me take over his body for a while?"

 

It was no trick of the light; there were definitely horns arching up from beneath Leon's dark hair. The demon leapt down abruptly, landing in a crouch at Stahn's feet, then rising fluidly and far too close to Stahn's face for comfort. 

 

 

 

 

 

Stahn refused to fear this demon, just because he was trying to _be_ scary.   Chaltier had saved Leon's life, Chaltier possessed Leon without hurting him.  Stahn had seen it.  And if Leon had so much faith in Chaltier that he would  _offer_ to do something like this, if he trusted Chaltier with his body, then Stahn would have faith in Leon's trust. 

 

"I'm not that surprised. Wasn't he kinda already doing that anyway?"

 

Chaltier chuckled, and it was so _uncharacteristic_ to hear that dark, rippling laugh come from Leon's mouth, when Leon himself was so... taciturn.  If Leon was stiff and abrasive, then Chaltier was almost the opposite.  He was a shimmer of subtle expressions to Leon's rigid mask, the laughing stream parting around the stubborn boulder that was Leon. And Chaltier was so  _very_ different from Dymlos.  

 

"Chaltier.  I'm glad I did get to meet you, even just this once."  He offered the small glass bottle, and the demon took it, though not without letting his claws drag deliberately across the back of Stahn's hand- not hurting, not even breaking the skin, but Stahn was suddenly very aware of how Chaltier was eyeing him.   

"Leon has forbidden me from harming any of you, and I suppose that probably includes drawing blood, hmm?"   

He cocked his head, as though listening to a response, and then laughed aloud. 

"Oh my.  Master Leon is _very_ adamant.  I guess I won't have my way with you after all."

Stahn did feel that if he had been allowed, the demon most certainly would not have settled for the boring bottle when Stahn was standing right there.

"Don't come looking for us. We'll be back by dawn," the demon said, clutching the bottle to his chest, stepping back abruptly and then simply vanishing.  Stahn knew he was just moving faster than human eyes could follow, but the effect was still impressive.  

Stahn didn't go looking for them, no, but he ended up volunteering for the first watch, climbing up the old shed to sit beside the spot Leon had vacated. 

The roof beside him was cold. 

 

* * *

 

[ [Fang Which Wants Blood](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JOTXyb7BxhQ) ]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so mad. I had to rewrite the second half of this chapter from scratch when it got lost, deleted by accident when the page reloaded and it hadn't been saved. I feel like the first version was so perfect and oh nooo, it'll never be as good, but honestly, this version is fine and probably a bit more organized.


	9. To Fight Your Own Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't look back;  
> Those days are gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N- If you are viewing on a smaller screen, the right side of the illustrations may be cut off. If that happens, you can scroll left and right to see the whole thing easily with your arrow keys! )

 

> _Chaltier finally decided it was time to interject_.

* * *

 

**_As much fun as this is, I do have a temporary solution._ **

Leon glanced down at the blade in surprise.  Chaltier wasn't usually one to volunteer suggestions unsolicited, but the demon _had_ been more giving of late. 

 _ **You might have a backwards, pathetic aversion to blood, but** _**I _don't.  This wouldn't be a problem for me._** _**And you're going to absolutely hate it, so use the time I'll buy you to come up with a solution you** _**can _live with indefinitely._**

Leon scowled, not appreciating the scathing choice of words.  

 _Are you suggesting that I make good on my offer right now? For this, of all things?_ He replied, skeptical. 

Part of him nearly ached at the promise of relief -  _any_ relief from spending one more night with that empty agony.  He shivered, realizing how cowardly this was, to let Chaltier do this and put off any real solution.  Was Leon really so pathetic that he had to resort to surrendering because he was incapable of overcoming this one challenge?

It stung.

 _It's_ _shameful_ ,he added _. I'm not a child-_  

Chaltier's incredulity was palpable. 

 _**Ah, yes, because dying or killing your comrades is an infinitely more desirable outcome.  Even if you aren't anywhere** _ **near _the point of losing control, you're certainly of no use to them if you pull another stunt like you did earlier today.  The last thing you want is to let this go to the point that you_ do _start struggling to control yourself.  All that would do is prove to all of them that you_ cannot _care for yourself nor accurately gauge your own abilities or limitations._**

Leon glanced down at Stahn, who was waiting expectantly.  The elder boy was well aware of the conversation, and thankfully refrained from interrupting.

_Chal, I am not going back on my offer, but this is not what I want to-_

 

 ** _Enough!_** The word was accompanied by a flare of anger.  _ **What**_ **you _want?  What about what_ I  _want? Or do even your favors cater only to your own desires?!  Do you think I enjoy this?  I may enjoy suffering, but we do share a body.  And there is nothing delightful about this dull resignation of yours.  I am beginning to think you_ are _a child, if you're going to be this_ stupid _.  Maybe_ you _like the idea of wasting away, but I will not allow it._**

Leon's hand tightened around the hilt, tightly enough to mask the way it wanted to tremble. 

_Chal-_

_**I am not going to**_ **let _you._** Chal was almost livid.  _ **If you're going to fight me on this, then I intend to force the issue.**_

Leon could feel a familiar surge of  _presence_ pushing insistently.   For a moment, he felt Chaltier's anger as though it was his own, which stung and felt instantly sobering.  Again, that unspoken feeling was brought to the fore of his thoughts, and he realized that even  _this_ was merely another facet of it. 

 _I'm sorry.  You're right.  I hate how you're almost always right,_ Leon relented, feeling worn thin and wanting to retreat before something broke.   So it was decided, then. He turned his gaze back down toward the third party to his personal dilemma, wondering how and when his defenses had so weakened to allow so many to slip past.   

"...Stahn, I..."

Stahn huffed.  "It's Chaltier, right?  I know he's a lot more 'awake' than you want to let on.  I know he can hear me. What did he say?"

Oh, if only it were that simple. 

Leon didn't even know where to start.  How could he _explain_ , much less justify, the offer he'd made?  Even to his own ears, such excuses sounded like lunacy.  They'd be convinced that his demon had tricked him.  Maybe it was better to ask forgiveness than permission, in such a situation.  It wouldn't be the first time Leon had acted in what he felt to be their own best interests without any prior consultation.  He-

 _**Shh, don't fret.  I did agree not to harm any of them, remember?  Now, state the terms of your** _ **curfew.**

That was easy enough.

_Dawn._

In response to Stahn's inquiry, Leon never did answer. Instead, he let go.  His consciousness drifted back, away from the locus of control, allowing Chaltier to surge up within him and  _become_ him.  

He was faintly aware of an actual physical change that accompanied the surrender- ebony horns that arced proudly from his brow, a sharpening of his senses far beyond any he'd yet experienced, and a surge of effortless power that eclipsed even his own newfound strength. 

 

Leon's eyes took on an odd glint, and it wasn't Leon who answered. 

 

Speech was a foreign sensation as another voice tried to force itself through the filter of an unfamiliar throat.  The resulting tone was both like and unlike his own, as Chaltier finally spoke. 

 

"Leon is going to let _me_ do the dirty work. Would it shock you to know he's _already_ made a bargain with me, and was already planning on  _deliberately_ letting me take over his body for a while?"

 

Not waiting for an answer, Chaltier leapt down from the rooftop, moving their body as effortlessly as though he had done this a thousand times. They were a kinetic sculpture, a god dancing before a legless worm, a living weapon forged of moonlight and dark shadows, the silent promise of danger.  

They landed in a crouch before Stahn, who suddenly looked far more fragile and tempting than Leon remembered, filtered through Chal's own perceptions.  Something about that imagined fragility made their pulse quicken, as though the very idea of it was beckoning him.  That transient fragility that mortals possessed- never before had it made him  _ache_ with the desire to push until something fractured. 

Horrified, Leon withdrew further. 

Chaltier rose in a fluid motion, bringing their face only inches away from Stahn's, relishing the way such an invasive action set the taller boy on edge.  Their hands trembled with the urge to touch, to tear, to tease and test to destruction.   It had been years and years since the demon had been able to move under his own power, in whatever way he wished, to experience what he wished, to touch and taste and see and hear things because he _wanted_ to experience them. 

To Stahn's credit, though, the taller boy stood his ground, prepared to let this unfold however it may.   

 

 

Stahn's voice pulled Leon out of the trance, grounding him against the hypnotic thoughts whispering wordless suggestions in their ear.

 

"I'm not that surprised. Wasn't he kinda already doing that anyway?"

 

Chaltier couldn't suppress his amusement at the response, chuckling in a way that was nothing like Leon whatsoever.  It was a dark, rich sound, molten and dangerous.  Leon could tell that the sound of it did put Stahn on edge, but the stubborn set of the taller boy's jaw seemed to indicate that Stahn was well aware of Chal's scare tactics and refused to succumb to them.  Leon was glad. 

"Chaltier.  I'm glad I did get to meet you, even just this once," Stahn added, holding out the small bottle, its contents sloshing and staining the interior wine-dark in the moonlight.   Even as he felt the familiar fear creep into his being, it came coupled with Chaltier's own desperate desire.  It was hard for Leon to extricate his own feelings from those coming from the demon, the boundary of his sense of self far more indistinct than he thought possible. 

Briefly, Chaltier contemplated the merits of foregoing the bottle entirely, eyeing Stahn with such hunger that Leon felt dazed in its wake.  He didn't miss the way Chal let their hand deliberately brush against Stahn's as he accepted the bottle, curving his fingers to let the claw tips drag tantalizingly against skin without breaking it. 

 

Leon would have shivered, had he been capable. 

 _Chal..._ His tone was uneasy, not liking the direction the demon's thoughts were headed.  Chal ignored him, tilting their head to look Stahn in the eye. 

 

"Leon has forbidden me from harming any of you, and I suppose that probably includes drawing blood, hmm?"  

 

 _You will NOT harm him._ He didn't think he would need to fight Chaltier on this, when he felt he  _could_ trust the demon to keep his end of such an agreement, but he would not allow Chaltier to harm the older boy if that was truly the demon's intent.  Leon hated that Chaltier was even putting him in the position to doubt. 

 

_**I won't, I won't.  I am pretty sure he'd be willing to let you skip the bottle though, if you asked nicely.  Hell, I'm pretty sure he'd throw himself at you if it meant you'd take better care of yourself.  Too bad that wouldn't help your problem.** _

Leon thought the suggestion was entirely unnecessary. 

_It's forbidden to drink directly-_

**_Because you're so keen on obeying the laws of the ones you betrayed?_** Chal's sarcasm was palpable. 

 _It's indecent!_ Leon retorted.  What Chaltier was suggesting was outright scandalous, illegal, and unfair to Stahn.   _No._

 

This drew an actual laugh from Chaltier, and the demon cocked their head at Stahn as he spoke. 

 

"Oh my.  Master Leon is _very_ adamant.  I guess I won't have my way with you after all."

 

Leon didn't approve of that choice of words, either, but he let it go.  It was clear that Chaltier was just having fun, doing these things to tease Leon as much if not more than to tease Stahn. 

 

"Don't come looking for us. We'll be back by dawn,"  Chal stated abruptly.  He clutched the bottle to their chest before whirling around to sprint away as quickly as he was able, leaving a confused Stahn alone in the dust and moonlight.  

 

* * *

 

The wind whipped violently by as they coursed through the night, moving at near highway speeds yet carried by nothing more than their own feet.  Chaltier didn't slow or stop until they reached a wooded area.  It had had likely once been a park of some kind, before being abandoned and allowed to overgrow freely in the years following the Apocalypse. 

"I figured you'd prefer some privacy," Chaltier whispered, "because that's how your contrary mind seems to work.  Am I wrong?" He purred, practically caressing each syllable as he spoke with all the rapture of a starving man savoring his first meal.   Leon found Chaltier's fascination almost hypnotic, and it took him a moment to respond. 

_...No, I suppose not.  Thank you._

Chaltier shrugged.  Like speaking aloud, it was pointless when Leon was still sharing his mind, but there was immense satisfaction in simply doing these things because he  _could_. 

Partly to delay the inevitable, and partly out of curiosity, Leon finally voiced the question that had been bothering him from the moment he'd surrendered control to his demon.

_Chal. I... I guess I had thought you were so bloody minded because of how much you hated the world and the people in it. But that's not quite right, is it?_

The demon gave a soft laugh. "Ah, I guess it might have seemed that way.  One certainly does feed into the other," he murmured, reaching out to touch the smooth bark of a sizable sapling, intent on the texture of the surface against their palm.  

Chal's - _their_ - breath hitched unevenly, and suddenly their fingers curled inward with crushing force, squeezing harder, tighter, until sap began to ooze out of the wound in the trunk.  After a moment, the wood splintered with an anguished  _CRACK,_ and the young tree toppled.  Leon was suddenly aware of the surge of adrenaline that made their heart race, the scent of sap and green wood cloying and coating his hand... The sensation of power that came from destroying was a headier drug than Leon would have thought possible. 

"If only that had been Hugo's neck," Chaltier breathed, flexing their fingers appreciatively. "Yes, I do hate most of humanity, but that's just compounded by my nature," the demon elaborated.  "I think Hugo ranks higher on my hit list, personally," he mused, and it was not an idle threat.  

Leon could  _feel_ the desire to hurt the elder Vampire.  Chaltier didn't just want to kill him; he wanted to do it slowly and savor every second of the agony he wanted to inflict.  Though, that thought was coupled with a surge of protective feelings and indignation on Leon's behalf.

Idly scraping off the mess he'd made, Chaltier continued.  "This is _what I've become_ , Bocchan," he whispered, closing their eyes and listening to the night sounds, "even though I used to be someone very different."

To Leon's own surprise, he found that this knowledge changed very little about his opinions.  

 _This is the only Chal I've **ever** known,_  Leon replied softly, earning a smile from the demon. _Why are you just standing here, then? There have to be_ some _monsters wandering around.  Just try not to draw too much attention to yourself. If a vampire notices that something is clearing out all the horsemen and stray vampires within a certain radius, they'll probably come snooping to see what's at the middle of it._

"Well, then I'll just have to kill them, too.  But first, I think there's something I shouldn't put off any longer."

Leon immediately tried to retreat even deeper, only for Chaltier to actually  _block_ him. 

"Oh no you don't. This won't solve anything if you just go hide and let me do the dirty work."

It was probably a good thing that Leon's rising panic had no outward effects on their body, because there was a good chance that he might hyperventilate.  

_Please, Chal, don't make me-_

The demon twisted their mouth into a positively wicked grin. 

"But that is  _exactly_ what I intend to do."

In that moment, if Leon had tried to fight Chaltier for control, it was quite possible that the demon would have won.  Leon was helpless from the moment the demon uncapped the bottle, the scent washing over him and bringing the nightmares with it. 

If Leon had been  _able_ to breathe, his breath would have hitched in a wordless sob of terror.  He was barely even aware of the fact that Chaltier was  _enjoying_ this, but he could hardly hold the demon's own nature against him.  This was a necessary evil, Leon had realized (and denied) from the moment Stahn had brandished that bottle. 

All he could think of was-

 ** _Enough,_** Chaltier echoed, startling Leon back into the present.

"You're going to focus," the demon continued aloud.  "Focus on the sensations  _I'm_ feeling.  Maybe we can rewire your head with enough re-conditioning," Chal mused. 

Leon was  _very_ doubtful, but Chaltier had no intentions of stopping now. 

Instead of just putting it to his lips and drinking, however, the demon decided to swipe a curious finger against the inside of the glass, coating it with now-tepid crimson.  He felt the brief flicker of disappointment coming purely from Chaltier, presented with one object of his desire yet not even allowed to experience it hot from the source. 

Leon  _did_ struggle, though, as the demon slowly raised that finger to their lips, the metallic scent overwhelming at this proximity.  But Chaltier was as unyielding as the earth itself, making a point of slowly and deliberately dragging their tongue across the bloody finger.  

Leon was thrust into a surreal juxtaposition of revulsion and longing, his throat refusing to close and Chaltier refusing to release him.  It was a vile ichor; it was the sweetest nectar. 

The next few moments were lost to him, and Leon finally regained himself to realize that Chal was holding an empty bottle.  Leon felt weak even as their body was suffused with new vigor.  

Strangest of all, they were both shocked to feel the damp remnants of tears cooling against their face.

Feeling bitter, empty, and weak, Leon withdrew as deeply into the void as he possibly could.   He wanted to shake off the memory of that overwhelming sensation of  _want_ mixed with revulsion and a taste he'd never be rid of.  Even Chaltier felt some small iota of regret. 

 _ **...I'm sorry.  Perhaps we can think of a different solution,**_ the demon offered in an uncharacteristic apology, to which Leon responded with a noncommittal sound.  

 

* * *

 

The familiar darkness was comforting, and only now did Leon finally let himself vent the inarticulate torrent of emotions that were threatening to burst out of him.  Leon hadn't thought he'd any tears left, but now his eyes burned as though every drop was a small part of a long-festering poison finally allowed to seep out of him.   He was only vaguely aware of Chaltier's actions throughout the rest of the night, almost preferring not to know, and trusting that the demon would keep his word- a promise wrought in mutual respect instead of cursed chains and cruel enchantments. 

He knew that more than one Horseman met a gruesome end that night, as well as a pair of vampires that had attempted to corner them a handful of miles away from camp.  Apparently there were, in fact, ways to kill a vampire without a cursed weapon.  

_I didn't know it was even possible against a well-fed vampire..._

Chaltier chuckled, using the blade in question to give the second scout a much quicker and more merciful end.

"Well, a vampire can't put himself back together if he's in small enough pieces..."

Chaltier impulsively licked the blade, making Leon shudder. 

_Is that a good idea to do with a cursed weapon?_

Chaltier gave a derisive snort.  "This blade is  _me_.  Or an extension of my body, in this state.  I'd have to be deliberately  _trying_ to injure myself for that to happen."

Leon would have scowled had he been able.  Having reached the extent of his willingness to involve himself, he simply retreated once more. 

 _Just come for me when you're done,_ he mumbled, inexplicably exhausted.

* * *

 

 

When Chaltier did come to meet him in the familiar darkness, Leon was curled up on the featureless plain.  He lay there as he had not since he was still in Hugo's custody, barely looking up when Chaltier knelt beside him. 

  

 

While Leon didn't regret his decision to allow this, he was hard pressed to feel any satisfaction upon seeing the demon's own. 

"Did you really...  was it necessary to drag it out like that?" Leon whispered, and Chaltier knew he was not referring to any of the recent skirmishes, but to all that had transpired in the overgrown park. 

 _ **Maybe.  I needed to gauge the severity of the issue, as well as how badly it would test both of our limits and control.   If it comes to this again, I will try to treat you more**_ **gently** _ **next time,**_ he teased, not entirely unkindly.   _ **There are still a couple hours left before sunrise, but I think I've done what I wanted to do for the time being. You should use the time to sleep, or rest as well as you're able.**_

Leon pushed himself to his feet, reaching back out with his awareness to see that they were actually within sight of the shed.  Stahn was gone, probably sleeping.  Leon reached up and found that the horns were gone, along with the godly grace and strength.  Coming down from that kind of heady power made him feel weak in comparison, like he'd become human once more.  That illusion was immediately shattered as he ran his tongue against his teeth, feeling the now-familiar prick of his fangs.  

 ** _Sorry. If only it were that easy_ ,** Chal mused as he caught Leon's train of thought.   _ **I'm not aware of it being reversible, but it is worth investigating, I suppose.**_

Leon shrugged. It was something for another day.  Wearily, warily, he made his way back to the farmhouse, giving a brief glance up to acknowledge Garr, who had replaced Stahn on the shed's roof.  Garr nodded, and Leon was grateful that no questions were asked. He wasn't sure if and what Stahn had told the man, but presumably he had mentioned that Leon was out and about, since Garr expressed no concern or surprise at Leon's late return.  

Leon was barely aware of his surroundings, for once, but of the three bedroom doors, he managed to find the one with Stahn on the other side. Leon crawled onto the spare futon and quickly fell into a dreamless sleep. 

 

* * *

* * *

[ [To Fight Your Own Heart](https://youtu.be/7KQjxkzbE2A?t=64) ]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a warning, and due to encouragement and positive responses on tumblr, this story WILL be including romantic undertones and overtones in upcoming chapters. However, the rating shall remain unchanged, and there will be no adult content. (Eventually, leading to light Stahn/Leon)


	10. The Look of That Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He had lost many moments to the tempest of events whirling by, but some had branded themselves onto his heart for all time. Some of the most important, the ones that shaped him, he had only just discovered.

 

* * *

 

Stahn, predictably, had not woken when Leon had all but crawled into the room and onto the spare futon.  Stahn himself was occupying the proper bed, his sleep fitful, but not so much that he could be stirred by anything save the sun or a detonating bomb... or Lilith.   As it was, Stahn had reached deep within, toward the hostile and forbidding proverbial door.  Without any of the hesitation he might have once felt, he flung himself through to be greeted by a familiar sight.

 

There was an endless white plain stretching all around Stahn, featureless save for the unadorned pedestal on which his demon sat, meditative with the character of banked coals, the burning mountain for which dormancy was unquestionably only a temporary state.  Still, after meeting Chaltier, while Stahn did not doubt the very real threat of Dymlos's power and pride, he was beginning to suspect that the ineffable air the demon had about him was largely a deliberate act.  

 

Or... No, the pridefulness was not feigned.  But the idea that the workings of a demon's mind were unknowable to Stahn was likely a perception that Dymlos preferred to leave intact, aided by the half truths and dehumanizing portrayal Stahn had been taught by the military.  If Leon, whom Stahn did consider knowable and relatable despite being a vampire, could connect on such a level with the demon Chaltier that it had created mutual  _trust_ between them...  Dymlos, too, was someone Stahn wanted to try to understand. 

The demon rose, regarding the figure before him with mild irritation.  Dymlos would likely scorn his attempts, but Stahn had never been deterred by mere stubbornness. 

 

 

 

"Dymlos," Stahn called up to the demon, unperturbed that the other had already drawn his sword.

 

Dymlos scowled.   ** _This is a waste of time.  You have no need of me at the moment.  Unless you've come to offer your surrender, I have no business with you at this hour._**

 

Stahn was not giving up so easily, and he folded his arms as he peered up at the dark figure.  Honestly, it was odd that Dymlos seemed to always be so...  Stahn wasn't sure what the word was that he wanted, but... If Dymlos was a demon, the picture of indulgence and savagery, it was odd that he behaved the way he did.  His reserved and curt manner didn't seem to arise from any natural trait of calmness.  Rather, it frequently felt like Dymlos _wanted_ to flare up violently, yet he always restrained himself.  What point was there in exercising such self control?  What purpose did maintaining dignity and refinement have when the demon's goal was to violently wrest control from Stahn at the first opportunity?  

Stahn briefly entertained the notion that it was common practice for demons to use  _other_ tactics, to seduce with power or crush with guilt and one's more metaphorical inner demons, but Dymlos certainly did not have the manner of someone attempting to entice or deceive.  

Perhaps Dymlos was arrogant, but mostly, Stahn realized, he was  _prideful_.  Was it beneath him to use such underhanded tactics?  What had given this demon any semblance of a sense of honor, if that was indeed the case?

Stahn had never met another demon to draw any comparison.  That is, he had not before this night.   But Chaltier was about as different from Dymlos as night and day.  Even the difference in his host's personality could not account for the contrast.  If anything, Leon tried to be stoic, more like Dymlos than Stahn or Chaltier in that regard.  But Chaltier was filled with dark mirth and intent, his voice a tapestry of emotions, his manner invasive and playful and  _dangerous_. 

Dymlos was stony silence that sometimes flared into violent sparks of emotion, always simmering but veiled and guarded.  Stiffly formal, curt and derisive, Dymlos was a scathing force before which any weaker will would crumple into ash.   

 

Where Chaltier was mercurial, Dymlos without such restraint was _implacable_. 

 

"I'm not here for business," Stahn replied.  "I'm here to talk."

 

 ** _I have nothing to say to_ you**, Dymlos scoffed, regarding Stahn with neither interest nor compassion.  Whether this was from simple irritation or from the belief that he knew Stahn's mind too thoroughly for such conversation to bear any fruit, Stahn did not know.  Dymlos had no love for humans, Stahn had quickly come to know, but he had never asked the demon  _why_. 

 

"That's fine," Stahn said agreeably, without missing a beat.  "I'll do the talking, then."

 

Dymlos was nonplussed.

 

 _**What makes you think I want to** _ **listen** _**?** _

 

 

Stahn shrugged, unable to suppress a smile.  "There's no shame in getting bored once in a while, even for a demon. Unless sulking on that rock and glowering at me is really more interesting than hearing what I have to say?"

 

Dymlos leaned forward, his eyes burning as he allowed his mouth to curve into a savage smile. 

 

 

 

  _ **How dare you,**_ Dymlos replied in a jarringly conversational tone. 

"I'm not afraid of you," Stahn stated calmly.  He had a healthy respect for Dymlos's strength and force of will, but he felt no true fear.  Fear was the feeling reserved for the future Stahn would not let pass.  Fear was the feeling reserved for not even knowing if his companions were alive or dead. Fear was the feeling reserved for the possibility of not being able to save them. 

 

**_You should be._ **

 

Stahn shrugged.  "Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I don't know any better, being a dull-witted country bumpkin who can't even hold a sword properly," he suggested lightly, Stahn's tone belying the suddenly fierce and knowing gleam of his eyes as he echoed Dymlos's past sentiments. 

Dymlos glared down with a new wariness, and Stahn felt a guilty flicker of pride that he had managed to say something the demon had not expected. 

 

"So if I were to surrender, and let you have my body, then what?  You'll slaughter every human you can.   _And then what?_ "  Stahn was curious, rather than accusing. 

 

Dymlos answered with a hostile silence.  

 

"See, that's maybe the one thing I don't get," Stahn sighed. "Surely there's more to you than that? You aren't just the same as every other demon.  Demons aren't all the same, period.  Otherwise, why are some more violent than others? What makes the others  _less_ violent?  I refuse to believe that killing is all there is to  _you_."

 

After all, if demons were characterized by nothing other than violence and an urge to devour and destroy, what in Chaltier had so moved Leon that the boy had actively sought his friendship?  Further still, what part of Chaltier's heart of indiscriminate hatred would have allowed Leon to  _earn_ it?  What place in a demon's heart was there for compassion or trust?  

 

 _I didn't do it for YOU,_ Chaltier had told him.  Had Chaltier done it for himself, then?  Wouldn't it be easier to wait for a more weak willed person to come along and pick up his blade after Leon was gone?   While it wasn't really believable to suggest that Chaltier, as a demon, had done it solely for  _Leon_ 's sake without any of his own interests at heart, Stahn did believe it was possible he had done it for the both of them. If there was one thing he knew, it was that Chaltier respected Leon enough to WILLINGLY surrender Leon's body (and his own freedom) in the interest of honoring a promise to Leon. 

 What aspect of the vengeful killer, of a heart full of wrath, would allow Chaltier himself to be so moved as to place Leon equal to (or above?) his own desires?

 

"What will you do after you've slaughtered everyone who remains? You will be alone again, with nothing to sate you.  It cannot be mindless hunger that compels you," Stahn insisted. "What do you  _really_ want? Vengeance?  You must have some kind of personal goal or desire. I know a demon can feel more than just undiscriminating hatred for everyone else in the world.  What do you value? What would you do if you won?"

The silence stretched between them for what seemed like an eternity. 

 _ **Don't speak of things you cannot know.  Who is to say that all demons don't want to tear the world to pieces? Perhaps those with less violent natures are simply lazy,**_ he spat. 

Stahn did frown, at last.  Was Dymlos merely speaking defensively?  Or did he truly believe what he was saying?  Had he accepted the labels given his kind and never questioned an ability to choose?

"Chaltier sure seemed to have another agenda besides killing everyone.  One that includes Leon, instead of just himself.   Who taught  _you_ to hate the world, Dymlos?  I refuse to believe you were born into the world already feeling  _hatred_.  Fear, hunger, desire-  I'd believe any of _those_.  But it takes experience with something to create true hatred."

 

 

 

 _ **That fool would do something like that...**_ Dymlos mused with mild shock and disgust.  _ **He always did what he wanted. And now he has become a sorry excuse for a demon. Has he no pride?  He actually**_ **spoke _to you.  Directly._**

It was not a question, and Stahn could hear the beginnings of indignant anger building.  While Dymlos's outrage was nothing new, he hasn't expected Dymlos to finally respond to the mention of  _Chaltier_ , of all things.

"Are... Are you  _jealous?_ " Stahn whispered, disbelieving.  

 _ **Don't push it,**_ Dymlos growled.  _ **I am not.  But perhaps I will answer some of your questions.**_

Stahn stood in attentive silence, earning a considering look from the demon. 

_**You ask who made me this way.  You also ask why I hate the world.  You ask if I have a specific goal.  The answer to all three of these is the same: Kureto Hiiragi.** _

Stahn opened his mouth to ask further, but Dymlos cut him off with a sharp gesture. 

_**I have granted you this one answer.  Now get out.  I have reached the end of my charitable feelings toward you tonight.  Go.** _

 

When Stahn finally opened his eyes, the sun was just creeping over the treeline, and Leon was standing with his arms folded, leaning beside the windowsill. 

 

* * *

 

Leon was silent as Stahn awoke, silent as he went through his morning preparations, and silent when Stahn decided to sit on the edge of the bed rather than change into his uniform.   After a moment, Leon begrudgingly joined him, sitting on the opposite corner of the bed.

 

"I owe you my gratitude," Leon mumbled, "...and an apology."

 

Stahn would have liked to be able to see Leon when addressing him, but Leon had chosen to sit with their backs facing each other instead.

 

 

 

 

 "Leon, you don't owe me anything," Stahn insisted.  "I'm glad you came back, and I'm glad you're doing better.  I got what I wanted in exchange already."

 

Stahn was expecting a derisive snort from Leon, but the other boy was troublingly quiet. 

 

 "Instead of being beholden to Hugo," Leon finally sighed, "I'm beholden to you. Instead of being a slave to his machinations, I'm a slave to my own disgusting weakness. I came back, yes. But you are presumptuous in thinking that my situation has really improved."

Stahn tried not to feel hurt at that revelation. Really, he knew part of what was talking was Leon's damaged pride and feeling low, but surely Leon didn't think that traveling with them was as bad as being stuck with the Vampires?

 

"Leon...  Can you really believe that?"   Stahn's tone was skeptical.  "Marian is safe.  None of us will use her or anyone else to control you.  If it's possible, I want to help you overcome this, too, so that you don't have to be bound to  _anyone_."

 

Leon hid the small smile that elicited, even though Stahn couldn't see him. 

 

"Very well, Stahn.  I concede that nothing can ever compare to my time spent in Hugo's... care."

 

Stahn wasn't sure if it was a good idea to laugh in response, as much as Leon's reticence and habit of dancing around simple phrases like "I'm sorry" made him want to chuckle.  But this Hugo business was not funny, Stahn decided, in any way.  

"I won't ask, Leon.  But if you ever wanted to-"

 

Leon's response was curt.  "You don't want to know."

 

 _This,_ Stahn objected to. 

 

"Wrong.  Of  _course_ I want to know!  But those memories are clearly unpleasant and painful for you, and I respect you enough to not be nosy when it's not my business," Stahn retorted. "Because I care. ...I've never met this Hugo guy, but I already want to punch him in the face," Stahn admitted. 

 

Leon groaned in exasperation. " _Please_ don't.  He would rip your arm off and feed it to you in the  _best_ case scenario."

Stahn grimaced. "Has he really done something like that?"

Leon shrugged. "Possibly. He's certainly done equally gruesome things.  And many, many worse things."

 

Stahn rose to change into his uniform, not missing the way Leon's fingers seemed to reflexively curl over his mouth. 

 

"Did he do something like that to  _you_?" Stahn whispered.  "He's the one who hurt you." It was not a question, nor had it been for some time. 

 

Leon wrapped his arms around himself.  "Worse," he spat.   "Because the things he did were never quite enough to kill me. Unfortunately."

 

Stahn shivered, pausing to tie his hair back before responding.  "...You wanted to die?"

 

Leon shrugged, letting his arms slide back down to his sides.  "No. Not in an active way.  I am not a coward.  But it would have been a relief compared to living another day."

 

Stahn scrubs his face as clean as he can, finally turning to regard Leon.   "...Do you still feel that way?"

 

"...No. Which is why I conceded. Dying now would be more troublesome than living."

 

Stahn nods.  "Definitely an improvement of some kind.  Quality of life has gone from zero to at least, like, a two out of ten, right?"  Stahn cracked a crooked grin. 

 

Leon did chuckle at that.  "That's too generous. Maybe a one point eight."

 

Stahn did let himself laugh this time.  "See? From zero to 1.8 in less than two weeks. Just think how great you'll feel after a few months of being stuck with us?"

 

" _Months_?" Leon retorted, feigning horror.  "You're lucky I don't just kill you all in your sleep to get some peace and quiet."

 

Stahn was never above self deprecating humor.  "I'm not sure they'd notice the difference with me. I do sleep like the dead, I've been told."

 

That earned a snort from Leon, though Stahn saw the beginnings of a smile starting to form. 

 

* * *

 

 

 [ [The Look of That Day](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=obELLqq-hQo) ]

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to those who have left lovely comments. You seriously make my day and I'll be sure to respond to them all with time. Sorry for the long delay between chapters! I have been very, very distracted lately by a number of things.


	11. Lying in the Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected turn.

 

While the Horsemen and some of the other Vampire nobles' scouts had apparently been too dull-witted to evade the swath of destruction Leon's demon had left, a single pair of eyes remained to follow Leon's return to camp.  Batista Diego was not obligated to aid the other Vampires, so he did not.  After all, it wasn't his job to  _stop_ Leon.  He had merely been sent to observe, as much as the lowly scouting mission stung his pride.  Observe, he did, and nothing else.  There was no mistaking the staggering difference in potential between the boy before him and the boy he'd last seen - broken, obedient, and far too weak to challenge a noble like himself. 

 

It wouldn't have been beyond Batista's ability to apprehend or kill the upstart mongrel, but those were not his orders.  If there was one thing that a vampire learned under Hugo's command, it was that orders were to be followed to the letter, if one  _liked_ to continue living.  There was no limit to the madman's cruelty or craftiness.

 

He waited until the boy's path took him just close enough for his eyes to be seen.  Satisfied, Batista left. 

 

* * *

 

 

Batista had been expecting disappointment or even anger at the news that Hugo's favorite pet had finally escaped its leash.  Instead, the monster  _smiled_.  

 

"Well. Now the game finally gets  _interesting._ "

 

"L-lord Hugo?"

 

The progenitor fixed the noble with his ever-unsettling gaze.  Sometimes, it was hard to know if the entity behind those eyes was Hugo... or something  _more._

 

"I have a new task for you."

 

* * *

 

 

Rutee sighed as she eyed the heavily guarded exit from the city.  The military was really serious about the state of the war, then! There would be no sneaking out for a long while, it seemed.  And Mary was still away on some kind of mission... hopefully nowhere near the front lines.  Not that Mary couldn't handle herself against vampires; that wasn't the problem. The woman was frightfully competent with a weapon.  Rutee was more worried about the other soldiers.  She'd only caught sight of that Lieutenant General once, and at a distance, but every fiber of her being seemed to scream at her to be wary of him. The further Mary was away from that man, the better.

It wasn't like Rutee  _missed_ her or needed her help. But Mary was good company and reliable to boot, strong as an ox and weathered Rutee's temper with experience.  It's not like Rutee wasn't used to working alone - she was just accustomed to working with Mary, when the woman was off duty. 

At some point, Rutee's searches for her own brother had transformed into extensive scavenging/salvaging trips which took Rutee farther and farther out. Eventually, she realized that she'd made her way back to the small town where the orphanage still managed to stand intact.  At first, her goal had merely been to bring supplies, though it was hard for just one girl to carry all that much and stay light on her feet.  She wasn't stupid enough to try taking on the vampires, of course. But she'd become quite good at  _avoiding_ them. 

Still, it had quickly become apparent that the situation could not last.  So instead of smuggling things  _in_ , she decided it was about time to smuggle the kids  _out_.  Only a handful of them had managed to survive the initial onslaught of the Apocalypse, anyway.  The youngest was practically an infant.  Rutee also knew that the military hadn't exactly shown any initiative for going out to human settlements to extend any olive branches or welcome them to Shibuya.

As far as Rutee could tell, the only reason the military raised a finger to help was if vampires were involved.  They would come in to eradicate covens of vampires keeping humans as livestock, sure, but the survivors who weren't already  _in_ Shibuya were on their own, otherwise.  Priorities. Triage. The military was probably aiming for the head of the serpent, hoping to cut it off and thereby reassert humankind as the dominant species.  

It made sense, Rutee mused, but she had always been the sort to protect her own interests first, and others' second.  So, the simplest solution was to bring the children to Shibuya.   It took  _weeks_ , and she could only reasonably ensure her safety if she took them one at a time, but it worked.  In the process, Rutee had managed to scavenge a lower tier enchanted sword. It wasn't a demon weapon like Mary's, much weaker than the highly regarded demon cursed gear, but it got the job done.  She'd only ever taken on one vampire, and a weakened one at that, but she had survived.  That was more than most people outside the military could claim. 

Rutee carried the sword at her hip, which was not a terribly uncommon sight. However, it wasn't exactly common for  _civilians_ to be carrying enchanted gear.  In fact, it probably would be taken from her if she was found out.  However, unlike the demon weapons, her sword looked perfectly ordinary to the everyday folk she rubbed shoulders with. 

Rutee wasn't really all that concerned as she compared the prices of canned goods in the convenience store. This, of course, meant that she hadn't really been expecting the quiet girl with braids beside her to glance over and then look at Rutee with wide eyes, whispering, " _Where did you get that??"_

 

* * *

 

 

Two transactions and a short walk to her apartment later, Rutee had learned that the girl's name was Philia Felice, that she was actually loosely acquainted with Mary (having run into her and the rest of her squad in the medical ward), and that Philia was not as easily intimidated as she appeared.  

Rutee wasn't a bully, but she didn't exactly appreciate having anyone poke their nose into her business, whether there was anything for them to find or not.  Still, her initial attempts to brush off the girl had been met with an unexpected amount of (polite) stubbornness. 

"Look, kid, I have things to do, and it's no concern of yours what kind of sword it is and whether or not I have it."  Rutee was quickly getting irritated at the girl's insistence, going so far as to follow her here. 

"But it  _is_ my business," Philia murmured, leaning closer so as not to be overheard. "In some part. I'm part of weapons research and development."  

  

"...I only help out at the ward.  Anyway, most citizens probably don't realize it, but any and all enchanted or cursed gear isn't just handed out willy-nilly.  Each weapon is assigned to a specific person, and every single one of them should be accounted for.  You could get in so much trouble if you stole it from someone!  _Please_ tell me you didn't?"

Rutee rolled her eyes, brushing past the girl to unlock the door.  "Its former owner won't be needing it, and I didn't steal it.  The dead don't have much use for swords," she explained, somewhat irritated. "I found it where something big must have gone down."

 

Philia sighed in relief.  "Not that looting is much better, but I suppose nobody is going to be missing it, at least."  

 

Rutee considered the girl for a moment, then held the door open.  "So you aren't going to turn me in...?"

 

Philia looked conflicted.  "I... I should, but... I'm honestly not so sure, anymore, given some of the things I've been hearing.  As awful as the idea is, I'm not so sure there won't be a time in the very near future that ordinary citizens will need to defend themselves."

 

Oh, that sounded promising. "Since you're here and all, you might as well come in.  Mary's out on a mission, so it's just me."

 

Philia considered for a moment, then followed Rutee inside.  "Why were you outside of the city in the first place...?"

 

Rutee tsked, putting the groceries away.  "None of your business.  But I can take care of myself just fine," she muttered. "I had something important to take care of.  I salvaged a few things, and that sword was one of them."

 

Philia knew there were generally only three reasons a person would willingly venture out of Shibuya's safety - for revenge, for military operations, or for loved ones.  Nobody was foolhardy enough to go out into the ruins purely for the sake of salvaging things that could easily be found in Shibuya.  Not anyone already living in the city, at any rate.  So, there was clearly more to the story here, and Rutee wasn't inclined to share it.  That was fine.

 

"Hmmm. Well, I'm sure you had your reasons. And it's not... not  _that_ surprising, I guess," she murmured.  "A... A lot of people leave and never come back.  Of course they would leave things behind. Like weapons... or family.  Family that  _hasn't_ gone, and still needs saving," she continued, though Rutee refused to make eye contact. 

 

Rutee scoffed, straightening as she shut the pantry door.  "Think whatever you want.  But what's got you so worried about things to come? I mean, I've had that Kureto guy pegged as a shifty bastard from the first time I saw him, but you really think things are gonna get that out of hand?  Isn't Shibuya still a safer place to be than... out there?"

 

Philia shrugged.  "I'm not really at liberty to say, since I can only speculate myself.  But... some of the things I've recently had a hand in developing... well, there are only a few situations I can think they'd be for, and none of them are good.  I... also maybe overheard a few things, and I may just be jumping to conclusions, but..."

 

Rutee walked over to lean against the wall across from Philia. "But you have a feeling, huh?  What does this have to do with me?"

 

The girl seemed conflicted, and Rutee thought she knew why.  Philia seemed like the sort of person who wanted to trust in the decisions of authority figures, trust in their experience and good intentions.   She didn't seem like the type of person who had the audacity to question or rebuke them on something as vague as a  _feeling._   She wanted to believe the best of people.

 

Rutee had learned it was safer to assume the worst. 

 

Philia sighed.  "Well... nothing in particular, I suppose.  I've never met you before, so of course I wasn't looking for you specifically.  But I do know Mary, and she and her squad are good people. I guess I'm worried about the other good people like them who may get caught up in all of this if I'm right."

 

Some combination of the words and Philia's certainty made Rutee shiver.  

 

"I don't suppose she's mentioned anyone in the military outside of her squad that she trusts? I'm a scientist, not a soldier.  It also might be good to send word to her, if you can, and let her know to be wary."

Rutee snorted. "Wary.  Uh huh.  Still, it'd be terribly inconvenient if anything were to happen to her, but I have no way of contacting her other than in person."

 

What a weird day this had become.  Still, if push came to shove, Rutee was perfectly willing to protect herself against soldiers as much as vampires.  Mary had mentioned something about an officer who'd given her squad this mission... and she seemed to have a favorable opinion of the man.

 

"You know, I think she said something about a different Hiragi. Not Lieutenant General Evil Eyebrows, but someone else... Shi-something.  Politics aren't really my strong suit."

 

Philia contemplated for a moment, absently fussing with one of her braids.  "That... sounds like, maybe, the Major General... There's also Shinoa, but Mary wouldn't be getting orders from her. So probably Shinya," she murmured. 

Rutee shrugged. "I guess. That sounds right. It was a man, I know that much, and Shinoa definitely ain't a man's name."

 

Philia laughed. "True.  I've not really  _met_ him, but he was present for... an assessment. He seems more approachable than the rest of his family."

 

Rutee didn't particularly care; she didn't trust  _any_ of them, so she would not be approaching them.  "I wouldn't know, but Mary seemed to respect him, and not in that God-fearing kind of way."

 

Philia nodded. "Maybe he would listen.  Thank you, Rutee. I should be going. I'll think things over before doing anything rash," she decided. "I don't want to be labeled as a traitor or an alarmist, either..."

 

She rose to leave, not noticing the folded paper that slipped out of her pocket.  Rutee watched her go, sighing after she was out of sight.  How was it that perfectly decent people seemed to keep ending up wrapped up in such unsavory things?  She knew she'd made the right choice by giving the military a wide berth.  Rutee sat on the small couch, only to jolt up at the crinkling sound of paper. 

 

She had just enough time to unfold it and wonder what a Seraph was, before the doorknob was ripped free and a hooded figure was suddenly standing before her. 

 

* * *

 

 

Philia realized belatedly that she had apparently dropped the hastily written note somewhere along the way.  She retraced her steps to no avail, finally deciding that it must have fallen out of her pocket when she was at Rutee's apartment.  Though she hated to disturb the petite girl so soon, Philia didn't want to risk the wrong person learning of the note's contents.  

She wasn't sure why, but she felt uneasy as she made the trek back, some unknown feeling urging her to hurry.  

 

As she approached the door, her heart sank, fluttering with alarm as she saw that it was ajar, struck with some force from the look of it.   Cautiously, she peered in, ready to bolt at the slightest sound... but it was silent.  There were signs of a brief struggle, and no blood.  The note seemed to be mocking her from where it lay on the cushion, unfolded and face down.  

 

She bit her lip, finally darting in to grab it, then she turned and ran as fast as her legs would carry her.  There was, perhaps, one person who could help. 

 

* * *

 

 

[ [Lying in the Darkness](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DLo_-5MyI84) ]

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a long wait! I got caught up in real life and other things, as do we all. This is a little on the short side, I realize, but I felt like this segment ought to be separate from some of the things to come, and I see no point in padding it out longer than it needs to be, anyway. Also, I HOPE Rutee and Philia came across okay, as this is the first time I've really tried writing either of them...


End file.
